The Haunting
by Bethuviel
Summary: Mirkwood is under assault from an unknown enemy. Thranduil and Legolas must save their kingdom and people from annihilation.
1. Chapter 1

**The Haunting**

by Bethuviel

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Middle Earth, J.R.R. Tolkien's Estate does. I do not recieve any compensation for my work, other than the pure enjoyment of writing.

Please r & r. All reviews are appreciated and taken under advisement. I will do my best to answer each.

**Chapter One**

It was a quiet pre-dawn morning in the palace of King Thranduil. Even the servents did not yet stir. Outside on the palace grounds, a misty fog lay over the land, dampening the grass, statues, benches, and walkways. Not a bird could be heard calling the morning to it's start. The fog brought with it a sort of chill that would sneak up on you, and before conscious of the fact, one would be shivering from the cold. The trees stood like silent sentinels, ghostly and still, their branches stooping to the ground. The hedges that wrapped the walk ways were dark and uninviting. The flowers and herbs, so meticulously tended in their gardens, sadly sagged, bent from the weight of the fog. The outer walls, a defense of the palace, stood high, massive and covered with the wet of the fog that had caressed it's tendrils over the surfaces. The inner and outer gates of Mirkwood Palace, held the grounds secure with their formidable height and width. The fog thickened, unknown to all who slept snuggly in their beds.

The palace doors stood closed and locked, sealing the entry way air tight. The massive hardwood doors, curved at the top, and had steel bars reinforcing the doors running from the top to the bottom, with a massive beam barring the doors from opening that lay crosswise.

The windows of the Palace were a marvel in and of themselves. King Thranduil recogizing the need for security, had entered into a secret pact with the dwarves. The glass of each window had mixed into it at it's creation, pure mithril, rendering the glass unbreakable, yet clear to allow for natural light.

The fog slowly crept over the walls of Mirkwood Palatial grounds, thickening at a steady pace. Just at the breaking of the dawn, all of Mirkwood sat under a thick white blanket.

From nowhere in particular, and everywhere indeed, a low rumbling and wicked laugh rolled across the land.

Thranduil awoke with a start and sat straight up in his bed. He raised his hand and touched his forehead. He looked at the same hand and raised his eyebrows in wonder when he saw the sweat glistening on his skin.

"AAAAAAAAA" A scream, strong at first, then fading at the end cut into the air. Thranduil eyes went wide as he spun around in the direction of the scream.

"AAAAAAAA" Another scream and Thranduil twisted his head and cocked his ear. His breathing became shallow as another, then another, and yet more screams from outside the palace ripped through the morning silence. Thranduil ran to his summoning bell and hit it hard so that it echoed in his chambers. Within a few seconds a disheveled servant appeared.

"My Battle Dress and Armor! Quickly! And sound the.." His words were cut off as the alarms sounded throughout the palace.

Thranduil almost fell backward from shock as Legolas burst through his doors, shouting, "Ada! Ada! We are under attack! Ada!"

The servant reappeared with others, bearing the battle dress and armor of the king. They swarmed around him in quiet efficiency, assisting him with his preparations and dress.

"Good Legolas! It was you who sounded the alarms?" He shouted over the clamoring, noticing that his son and heir was already dressed and prepared for battle.

The personal royal guard rushed into the rooms and formed a barrier around their king and prince, swords and bows drawn. Guards formed outside the chambers and down the hallways.

"Aye, Ada. I did so when I heard the first scream."

The captain of the guard, Uraile, a battle seasoned warrior who had stood with Thranduil at the battle of the five armies, stepped foward, bowed short and quick, "My Lord and King"

Thranduil addressed Uraile, "What information do you have concerning this? Who attacks us?"

"AAA AAA IIII!" More screams.

Uraile looked his king in the eye and stated truthfully, "We know not. The land is covered with a thick fog and we are unable to see through it. Shall I send a runner to the gates, my lord?"

Thranduil adjusted his helm and strode forth, the guard moving with him, "Make it so, and let us go to the Omnate and discover what we may."

Uraile gave orders to his company and walked two steps behind the King.

The Omnate was a circular war room of sorts, built directly on top of the palace of solid granite with mithril windows around the circumferance of the room. It was a fortress in and of itself, allowing the King and his captains a clear view of Mirkwood from which to direct the defences of the elven armies. The Omnate always kept two guards on watch, one for running any necessary messages and one on watch.

In the main foyer of the palace, an elven body of swordsmen and archers stood ready in front of the main entryway doors. Their muscles were tensed and faces hard with steely jawlines, ready to attack whoever or whatever waited on the other side of the doors.

A lieutenant, marked by a scarlet plume rising from his helm parted the company and stood in front. "By order of the King, a runner and five guard are to be sent to the gates and guardhouses for information, and to return without delay with word to be given directly to the King."

"EEEIIIIAAAA" More screams pierced the doors and walls of the palace and ran down the ear canals of the swordsmen and archers to play upon their eardrums and dance into their memories. "AAAAIIIII"

The lieutenant stood firm, but squinted his eyes hard at the new screams.

A young private, stepped forward. "I will go and obey my King."

Within moments five more volunteers also stepped forward to act as an escort to the runner.

The great bar was removed from the doors and other elves silently unlocked the steel mechanisms at the top and bottom of the doors. The doors were pulled slowly open, and archers waited with arrows nocked, while swordsmen stood in stance ready to attack and defend.

The lieutenant had both his sword and short sword drawn, and stood at the front, ready to lead the company in battle. When the doors were partially opened enough to allow the six elves to exit, the lieutenant stepped back and drew his breath. The other elves looked on in curious awe.

The doors opened and were brought to a halt, revealing a wall of white. Within it, fog swirled in all directions. The wall of white fog held thick condensation that could be smelled as strongly as rain before gray thunderclouds break open. The fog did not dissipate at the doors, but remained a wall.

The lieutenant gathered his senses and whispered, "Steady forward, elves."

The private and the escort stepped cautiously into the wall of white and disappeared.

The guardsmen quickly closed the doors, locked, resealed, and barred them. There was an immediate feeling of relief wash over the elves in the foyar.

Part of the royal guard preceded the king and his son into the Omnate. They quickly circled the room and stood between the royals and the two Omnate guards.

The guards saw the King and prince quickly bowed exclaiming, "My Liege and King, my Lord."

Thranduil gave the signal for them to stand upright. "Tell me, what news, and why was no message sent from the Omnate of this oncoming attack?" Thranduil eyed the two elves sharply.

The two elves, both young and just out of training, frowned and looked questionly at the captain of the guard. Uraile stepped towards the elves and sharply demanded, "Answer!"

The older of the two, a silver haired elf named Caleb stammered, "My Lords, we have saw naught of an attack or threat of any kind. The night has been quiet, and two hours before dawn this fog began to form over the lands. There has been nothing amiss, else we would have with diligence have reported so. My Lords." Caleb's neck was bent as he gave his report.

Uraile looked at the guard askew, "And what of the screams? Have you not heard? Did you see nothing?"

Caleb answered, "We have heard them, but knew not the source nor the reason. Then the alarms sounded, and we knew that his Majesty would soon arrive, so we waited, as we knew no information to report."

Legolas leaned to his father and whispered so that none else would hear, "Ada, I find it hard to believe that from this position which shows all of Greenwood the Great and the palatial grounds, that these two guards saw nor heard nothing. I fear they may be conspirators. I suggest sending them to the vaults below until their innocense or guilt can be divined. I would not have you to recieve a dagger in your back at an inopportune moment."

Thranduil listened intently to his son and most trusted advisor. He knew that Legolas was not only acting as his son, but also in his official capacity as protector of the King. Thranduil also doubted there would be any daggers in his back as Legolas was a trained assassin and more than capable of thwarting any attack on his person. Not to mention all the royal guards.

Acting on his son's advice, Thranduil commanded Uraile, "Detain them until further notice." Uraile motioned to three royal guards and the two Omnate guards were led away.

Thranduil walked around the outer edges of the room, looking out the windows. His pace was slow, as he tried to discern any images through the fog that blanketed his land.

"EEEIIIAAAA" "AAAAIIII" More screams were heard. Thranduil felt chills shiver his spine. He bent and looked at the skies directly overhead of the Omnate. The skies were dark with thick gray cloud coverage which blocked out the sun. Thranduil looked at the skies over his kingdom and noticed that all was under the thick gray cloud cover.

Legolas followed his father around the room, noting all the positions of the royal guard, and Uraile, his captain. Legolas also saw the clouded skies. "If the skies were to only break and allow the sun to shine, perhaps this fog would burn away."

"Aye son, but it stands to reason, if we cannot see through it, then our enemy cannot either."

"I cannot even see the great walls nor the gates Ada. I don't like it."

"Yet what can we do? We await word from the runner we sent."

**Chapter Two**

The private stepped into the white wall. He knew without question that his escort followed him. He felt the fog envelope him. He did not like the way it felt on his skin. It felt unnatural, heavy, dank, and somehow not right. Private Azureil knew that his path lay straight before him and would lead him to the gates. But knowing that bit of information did not ease his mind. The 200 steps to the gates could have been three leagues in this fog. He held his hand before him and could not see it. Azureil bent and prowled along the walk like a cat. He could sense the guards to the right, left, and behind him. He picked up his pace, unwilling to be out in the open any longer than he had to be.

His eyesight was useless and he felt somewhat vunerable. Azureil felt his head become congested and opened his mouth to try and 'pop' his ears. It was useless. Now he could not see further than the nose on his face, but he could not hear either. Azureil began to feel betrayed by his senses. He twisted his head and tried to see the guards around him. All he could interpret was white. That's how he felt. With the exception of feeling the walkway under his feet, he felt surrounded by white, devoid of sensations. Alone.

"Janire, can you hear me?" He asked of the guards.

"I hear you, although I can see nothing."

"I am here also." The others began whispering around Azureil, assuring each other of their presence.

"Let us come closer to one another, lest we become lost and seperated from one another." Azureil and the other guards felt like that was a good idea. Soon they were all pressed together, moving as one body instead of six. They crept along the cobblestone walkway, silent and wary of an enemy unseen.

"AAAAWWWW!" Another scream echoed around the small group. Azureil immediately crouched to the ground and the guards stood up and took a step outward. Azureil watched the guards faint outline. He raised his hand and wiped at his nose. He silently spat upon the ground and wiped his mouth.

Azureil found his nose to be stopped up, and his tongue drenched with the taste of the fog. He scrapped his tongue on his front teeth, trying to remove the putrid flavor from his mouth. His chest pulled hard on his lungs, vying for air.

Suddenly, on his right he heard one of the guards scream. "WAAA!" Azureil twisted his neck but saw nothing, only swirling fog where the guard had stood. "AAAWWW!" behind him. "AAAWWWAA!" in front of him. Azureil crawled on all fours, scrambling in the direction of the gates. He could hear the feet of the other two guards coming after him.

"Azureil! Wait!"

Azureil did not slow but got onto his feet and ran. He held his hands out before him as he ran and begged the Valar for mercy.

"AAAAIIII" came from just behind him. It gave him a start, and he jumped foward and doubled his speed. His feet felt heavy, and his heart raced inside his chest. Azureil felt as if he were suffocating in the heavy fog. But he did not stop running. Onward he forced himself, fear overcoming shame, the instinct to live outweighing all reason.

He felt something grab him under his left arm and began flailing his arms in an attempt to escape.

"Peace! It is I, Janire."

Azureil pushed his face towards the voice, relief shadowing his features. Together they ran forward until they crashed into the bars of the inner gates and fell backward onto the wet ground.

They did not lay there, but rolled over and crawled beside the gates and walls until they at last came to the door of the guardhouse. Frantically they beat upon it with their fists.

"Let us in! Let us in! It is me, Azureil and Janire. Let us in! Let us in!"

The door to the guardhouse opened slowly. Azureil and Janire felt the tips of swords and arrows upon their faces.

"It is, I recognize them. Quickly, quickly! Get in!"

Azureil and Janire scrambled inside and the door was shut behind them. They were immediately set upon with several questions.

"What is it? Did you see?"

"What attacks us?"

"How long were you outside?"

"Do you hear the screams? Who are they?"

"Why do they scream?"

Azureil and Janire dusted themselves off and peered about them in the guardhouse. It was Private Azureil who broke into the barrage first.

"We know as little as you. Yes we heard the screams and know not why they scream, nor do we know who or what attacks us. We are from the palace, sent by the king himself. Who is in charge here?"

A dark haired elf stepped forward and looked at the private. "You are a runner from the King?" he asked.

"Yes I am. I am private Azureil."

"I am seargent Daniwel. We may speak openly here, for I can not tell you anything that everyone here does not already know." Azureil nodded his head.

Daniwel continued, "This morning, before the break of the day, we were awakened by screaming. Then we heard the alarms from the palace. Then more screams. At once we were to arms and went to leave this guardhouse and to the gates and walls. When we opened the door, there was a private, I do not know his name except that he was a new graduate, and then there was no private but only his screams. He stood about center of the door, and then as if he were pulled up and away, he disappeared. Then his screams. We heard others screaming. We gathered our wits and ventured out into this cursed fog and found we could not see further than our own noses." Daniwel stopped and was lost in memory.

Daniwel gasped and looked at Azureil. "Forgive me. We could not see further than our noses and so decided to touch each others shoulders so as not to become lost and wondering in this white soup. I led the company to the gates and found them still secure. Then we heard different sounds. Elves were falling and grabbing their necks. They could not breathe, but were as drowning in water. One I saved. And I tell you that they were drowning for it was water I expelled from his lungs. He is in back recovering. Although he cries out alot, as if in pain and mortal fear." Daniwel grew paler and continued his story.

"Once we realized that we could drown in this fog, we returned to the guardhouse. There have been a few who...who...who have began shrieking and clawing at their faces, their heads, and ran out back into the fog. We tried to restrain them, but they were as if mad, but more so than mad. More like possessed and shrieking insane..." Daniwel fell silent.

Azureil and Janire stood staring at the seargent.

Janire hung his head ad began, "I felt something out there. Something that I did not recognize. Something foreign to me. I felt it, like it was scraping my mind. It was a small thing at first. Barely noticeable, and with the other guards disappearing into thin air, I paid it no heed. Then it grew stronger and more insistant. I ran until I came to Azureil and grabbed him by his arm. And together we made our way here."

Azureil told his tale, "I felt my head become congested and could not breathe. I could not hear, and what I did manage to catch, seemed far away and distant, even though the guards were screaming right beside me. I felt blind, and alone. With only the cobblestone under my feet and hands. I was afraid. I admit it. I was so afraid all I could do was crawl on the ground as fast as I could go. Then I was running. But though in slow motion. Then I felt the heaviness in my chest, and could not get enough air to breath. Every breath was a struggle and I was panicking, suffocating. It was then that Janire caught me by my arm and we ran here together."

Daniwel considered their words. "It is plain to me that this fog is in of itself a danger to us all. Never the less," he clapped Azureil on the shoulder, "the king must be told of this. You are the appointed runner and after a short rest you must return to the palace." Daniwel was never so glad in his life that it was not he that had such duty.

Azureil mouth fell open and he grew paler. "You mean back out there? In that! I can not. I will not. Though on pain of my life, I will not go back out there!"

Daniwel and Janire looked with pity on Azureil. Daniwel said, "But you must, Azureil. This duty is yours, and you took it on voluntarily. It is ok to be afraid, but to be a coward, no."

"I am no coward. I am just smart enough to know not to go back out it that white death. And death it is for any caught in it. I will not go!"

Janire stepped in front of Azureil, "Then who would you appoint this task, Azureil?"

Azureil looked about the guardhouse and hung his head. He knew he could not ask or demand anyone else go outside in his place. He knew he would have to face the white fog again, and whatever else was inside of it. He stood straighter, held his head up, squared his shoulders and answered with all the courage he could muster, "Forgive me, I was not myself. I will complete my appointed task, or die in the attempting."

Janire joined him, "And I will go with you. To the palace, or to death. We shall face our fates together."

Azureil looked gratefully at Janire. They joined their hands and drew a deep breath. The guards opened the door, and the two elves bent over and ran to the inner gates, then turned and ran for the palace.

Tighter their hands held as faster their feet ran. Janire and Azureil could feel the fear beginning to take hold on their minds but they did not give in to that fear, but continued to run. They took strength from one another and the contact of their clasped hands.

Fifty steps out, then one hundred steps. Azureil could feel his head stopping up again. With his free hand he grabbed his cloak and brought it to his face. He breathed through the cloak holding tighter still to Janire.

Janire matched Azureil's grip. He could feel the spectres scrapping over his mind, and could begin to see figures with his eyes. Not knowing what else to do, he closed his eyes and ran harder, pulling Azureil to match his speed.

Azureil could feel his heart beginning to pound inside his chest. "The water can't get through the cloak" he kept repeating inside his head. "Lots of air to breath. Plenty of air."

One hundred seventy five steps out and Azureil felt Janire stumble down onto the cobblestones. He pulled on Janire's arm. Azureil looked up and around them, knowing that whatever was out there would be close to them. He pulled harder but Janire did not respond. Azureil bent over and scooped the elf up in his arms. Janire was holding his head, shaking it back and forth, whimpering. Azureil did not waste any more time but sprinted the last twenty five steps and kicked on the palace doors.

"Let us in. Quickly, it is almost upon us. Let us in!" He shouted. Azureil spun around, sure he had felt a whisp of something on his shoulder. He began shrieking at the top of his lungs. He beat upon the palace doors with his back. He could hear the clicks of the locks being released, the bar scraping across the metal holders.

"Hurry! Hurry!" he screamed. Then he felt a presence. He felt something unseen wrap itself around Janire even as he held him in his arms. He pulled Janire tighter to his chest and bent over him protectively. He could hear himself shrieking again. He felt his throat start to become raspy, but still he screamed. He felt Janire being pulled away from him, and he leaned back, digging his heels into cobblestones. Then he felt hands on him from behind, pulling him into the palace.

Azureil felt Janire leaving his chest and being pulled upwards away from him. Using strength he did not until now know he possessed, he tightened his grip onto Janires wrists, and pushed himself backwards through the doors of the palace.

The guards had opened the doors and could not believe what they were seeing. There stood the private, clinging to another elf fighting some unseen force. They immediately grabbed onto the private and began pulling him inside the doorway. Some of the guards stepped in front of Azureil and began slashing at the fog with their swords. Archers loosed their arrows into the white wall and watched them disappear. One swordsman, seeing Azureil losing the battle with the fog and watching Janire's body being pulled upwards, jumped and grabbed onto Janire's chest. It was then that Azureil fell backwards into the palace. The other elves began dragging Azureil and Janire further inside, as the wardens pushed desperately at the doors to close them.

Once Azureil and Janire were safely inside, the swordsmen and archers threw themselves at the doors, straining agaisnt the whiteness, until at last the doors were shut and sealed again. The wardens and guards quickly slid the bar into place and locked the steel mechanisms.

The elves breathed heavy and looked at each other, not understanding what had just happened. The lieutenant stood and walked over to where Azureil and Janire lay on the floor.

Azureil was pale, hyperventilating and clutched his own chest. Janire lay beside him, holding his head and whimpering. The lieutenant stared at Janire. He could have sworn that Janire had dark thick raven colored hair. Janire's hair had turned white and stringy.

The lieutenant turned to his seargent and said, "Get these two elves to the halls of healing, and send a messenger to the King to meet them there." The lieutenant turned to the rest of his company and ordered, "On your feet, Elves. Stand your post and fight to the last."

His company of elves stood quickly and again resumed their posts at ready to fight and defend to the last elf. There burned in their eyes, a fire, hatred, and a little fear. But they obeyed.

**Chapter Three**

Inside the Omnate, an irritated king and prince stood over a simple wooden table in the center of the room plotting the where abouts of their various companies and the strength of each on a detailed map of the kingdom. The royal guard encircled the two, and the captain stood off to the side of the royals, grunting when appropriate.

Legolas noticed the grunts of the captain and stared at him frowning. "Is that all you can offer, a few grunts here and there, um um?"

Uraile looked at his prince, surprized. "No my Lord, I am simply paying attention to all that is being said, am in total agreement thus far, and did not wish to interupt."

Legolas squinted his eyes at Uraile's answer. "This is serious, Uraile, the kingdom is under attack, elves are dying, we do not know anything about the enemy we face, the runner has been gone for over an hour with still no word, and that blasted fog obscures everything."

"Yes, my Lord." Simply stated Uraile.

There was a knocking at the door. Thranduil, Legolas, and Uraile watched as a soldier was permitted entry.

The soldier walked a few steps more and bowed low to the royals, "My Leige and King, Prince Legolas, I have a message. The runner has returned with one of the guards sent and awaits you in the halls of healing."

Thranduil raised his eyebrows and looked at Legolas. He dismissed the messanger and sighed. "Uraile, you will take command here until our return. Legolas and I shall go to the halls of healing."

"Yes, my Lord."

Thranduil and Legolas, as well as all the royal guard except the two left with Uraile, decended the Omnate and made their way to the halls of healing. They passed a mirror on the way and Thranduil caught a glimpse of himself out of the corner of his eye.

He paused for a moment. It had been many years since he had seen himself in his battle dress and armor.

"Ada?" Legolas called to him

"Yes, yes, let us go." Thranduil continued down the hall towards the halls of healing. He had forgotten what he looked like dressed so. The armor of the Mirkwood Elves was a dark silver, made of mithril. The helms were close fitting, covering the entire head, leaving a slanted opening for the eyes to sight. The helm curved and covered the necks of her soldiers. The armor covering the body was fitted to the individual characteristics of the soldier, and at the joints the armor was connected by mithril mail. Thranduil had insisted that in the design of the armor, that each soldier wear a kilt and cape the color of Thranduil's banner. Wrapped around the kilt at the waist, was a scarf of non-descrip color, that tied on the side, allowing the excess ends to hang. Thranduil knew it was vanity, but decided that as king, he was allowed a little of such. That, and he believed it looked smart.

Thraduil secretly smiled at his image, proud of how he looked. He was proud of his men as well. The only difference between the uniforms were the plumes on the helms, designating rank. His and Legolas' plumes were the only black ones, with black waist scarves.

"Ada we are here.." said Legolas, pulling his father out of his thoughts once more.

They were greeted by the master healer, Urenas, an elf who had sailed from the undying lands in the beginning.

"Your runner is here Sire," said Urenas stopping by the bed of Azureil, "and his guard is here beside him." Urenas pointed at the bed beside Azureil. "But I caution you both, my Lords, not too long, and not too close."

Thranduil and Legolas looked at the patients and frowned. They were both bound to the beds by thick leather straps.

"Why are these elves strapped to their beds?" asked Legolas.

"My lord, madness has overtaken Janire," he pointed to the white haired elf, "and this one begins shrieking at the top of his lungs and having spasms. I assure you, it is for their own safety and ours, that we have done so."

Legolas and Thranduil stepped closer to the bed of Azureil. Thranduil glanced about, found a wooden stool, pulled it close and sat down upon it.

Thranduil looked up at his son with a question in his eyes.

"Azureil, Ada."

Thranduil nodded his head at turned back to the elf laying on the bed before him.

"Azureil." Thranduil called out. "Azureil, hearken to my voice, Azureil."

Azureil slowly opened his eyes and let them focus. When he saw who sat beside him, his eyes flew wide. "My Lord!"

"It's alright, Azureil." Thranduil reached out and patted him on his shoulder, "It's alright. You are safe now."

Azureil eyes flickered for a moment, remembering his journey to the guardhouse and back again. He breathed heavily and sighed.

"Tell me, Azureil, what news? Tell me all that you know and remember. It is important." Urged Thranduil.

"Yes my Lord. First I apologise for the delay in returning. It was not our doing, but that of another. We left the palace, intent on our mission. The fog...the fog..." Azureil closed his eyes shut, and his back arched unseemingly agaisnt the leather straps. "The Fog!" He shrieked. He twisted his head to the left, then to the right. "The Fog!" He twisted his body and tried to break free from the bonds that held him tight. "AAA! The fog!" He shrieked over and over.

Legolas put his hands on his daggers and stepped closer to his father and king.

At that moment Janire started screaming aloud, "Death! Death rides a pale horse! He comes! Death! He comes for us all!" Janire twisted and arched against his leather bonds, but they continued to hold fast.

Legolas grabbed his father up from the stool and pulled him back away from the screaming bound elves. He drew his daggers and put himself between his father and the beds of the two patients.

The royal guard, upon hearing the noise, rushed into the room with swords drawn and arrows nocked. Thranduil held his hand up and stayed them where they stood a few feet away.

Urenas rushed past the royal guards and over between the beds of the two elves. "My Lords, you must leave now."

"Master Healer, I will do no such thing," replied Thranduil. "We are being attack by an unknown enemy and those two possess the only information currently available and I will have that information."

The two stood looking at one another. Thranduil continued, "I want you to sedate them, but not to the point of unconsciousness. Just enough to calm them so that I may question them and get a coherant answer!"

Urenas nodded his head. He left and returned a few moments later with two cups of steaming liquid. He set the cups on a table between the two heads of the beds and bent over Janire. Urenas cradled his head and offered the cup to the lips. Janire drank the liquid greedily.

Urenas turned and did the same to Azureil. Azureil pulled away from Urenas, who had to call an assistant over to help. Together, they forced the liquid into the mouth and down the throat of the elf.

"It is done as you have commanded, my Lord. Wait a few moments, before attempting to question them again." Urenas stood, excused himself and went to stand close to the royal guard. Curiousity had gotten him. He too wanted to know what had caused these elves to behave so wildly.

Legolas turned to his father and spoke in a whisper, "Ada, if I may. You are King here, and such is not becoming to your station. That and I do not trust those straps to hold them down. If they were to free themselves, you would be at the mercy of madness. Let me question them. You stay here, well away from their reach."

Thranduil nodded his head and remained where he stood. He watched the elves closely. Legolas was still his son and he did not like him being so close the to mad elves either.

Legolas stepped forward and scooted the stool with his foot back towards his father. He squatted, kept a dagger in his right hand, sheathed the other and placed the free hand on Azureil's forehead.

"Azureil, it is I, Legolas. Hear my voice, awaken unto me." He spoke softly.

Azureil opened his drugged eyes and looked upon his Prince. "My lord, forgive me. I am not myself."

"There is nothing to forgive, Azureil. I must ask you some questions, and I need you to answer them truthfully, Azureil." Legolas stroked the elf's forehead gently, trying to reassure him. Legolas fingered his dagger handle just out of Azureil's sight.

Thranduil and the others listened intently, and waited for answers they all sought.

"Azureil," began Legolas,"tell me, what happened to you when you left the palace? Can you remember?"

Azureil blinked and shook his head that he did remember. "The fog stood like a wall at the doors. I stepped into it, and the five guards followed me. Once inside the fog, I could not see, my lord, past my own nose. It was thick, and clung to my skin, clothing and armor. And it smelled of water. Droplets were all over me. I could not see the others, but rather faintly sensed their presence." He breathed heavily, caught back in the memory of his foray outside the palace.

Legolas stroked his forehead again and spoke to him,"Continue Azureil."

Azureil looked up at his prince and sweat broke out on his brow. "It was not natural, you could feel it. But onward we strode, cautious like cats. About fifty steps out I called to the others. They were as uncomfortable as I. We agreed to walk touching one another, so as not to get lost or seperated from one another. We went on another few feet and that's when it began." Azureil drifted out to another memory.

"Azureil, what began?" asked Legolas, becoming wary of the elf.

"It began." Said Azureil, his eyes were wide and his lower lip trembled. "It began with a scream somewhere off in the distance. I could not tell from where. My head had filled up with congestion, I could not hear anything clearly, and what I did hear seemed leagues and leagues away, even though right beside me. And I was having difficulty breathing. As if my lungs were filling up, but not with air. Like I was suffocating. And you could not see anything but white. Everywhere white, swirling white. Then the guards sent with me were screaming. Such horrid screaming. In agony, screaming. I knew not what to do, I ran. Blindly. I ran, my prince. As fast as I could go...but my feet and legs were dragging as if caught in mire where there was none. But still I ran." Azureil's breathing became ragged and short. His eyes darted about the ceiling and he ran his tongue over his lips.

"Calm Azureil. Calm, it is over, only a memory and it cannot harm you. See I am here, I will protect you, Azureil. You are safe," assured Legolas.

Azureil eyes pleaded with Legolas. "Do you promise? Promise you will protect me, Prince Legolas?"

Shocked, Legolas nodded his head, "From all your demons. I will protect you, Azureil. You are safe here, none will harm you."

Silently, Uraile joined them in the room. He nodded at his king and stood with the royal guard. Thranduil knew that Uraile had left a trusted leuitenant in charge of the Omnate, and accepted it. He knew that Uraile would never be found more than ten steps from his side. He turned his head back and observed his beloved son with the two patients.

Azureil sniffled and continued with trembling lips, "Somehow Janire caught up with me. Together we ran until we hit the gates. We got up and went right, touching the walls until we came to the guardhouse. They let us in. I spoke to Seargent Daniwel. He reports nothing foreign on our soil, except this fog. They went out to investigate when members of their company simply disappeared screaming just like my guards. He said they made it back to the guardhouse, only to have some of their company run shrieking back into the fog." Azureil twisted his head away from Legolas.

"Some, my Prince, drowned. Daniwel said he managed to save one and it was water that he expelled from the lungs."

Legolas let the elf lay in silence for a few minutes then asked, "So no one has seen anyone or anything upon our land except this fog?"

Azureil looked again at Legolas. "Nothing except this fog."

"And your return trip?" asked Legolas.

Azureil swallowed. "I did not wish to go back into the fog, but in the end I do so. Janire came with me. We held hands and ran for our lives. It all began again. The deafness, the difficultly breathing, loss of senses. Then just before we reached the palace doors, Janire fell. I tried to pull him up but it was useless and I wound up carrying him. He was clutching his head, and crying. Then I felt it. I don't know what it was, but I felt it touch me. It wanted Janire. It tried to pull him from my arms, and were it not for the door wardens and guards at the entry doors, it would have succeeded. We barely made it back inside alive." Azureil closed his eyes and sighed.

"I don't know what's in that fog outside of here, but when it touched me, Prince Legolas, for just a flash, I could see a glimpse. I cannot describe what I saw, except that it chilled my heart and I knew a fear that I have never experienced before. I do not wish to ever go back out there again. I will forfeit my life before I do so."

Legolas stared at Azureil. He knew the elf was not lying, and would not be made to go back out again. Legolas let his hand drop to his side and looked down at the floor, considering all that Azureil had told him. It made no sence and sounded like the ramblings of a paranoid claustrophobic elf with an overactive imagination.

Janire began laughing insanely, interupting Legolas from his thoughts. Thranduil looked on aghast.

Legolas spun around on his haunches and stared at the laughing elf.

"Death comes for us Prince."

Legolas pulled his other dagger from its sheath.

"He rides a pale horse, and comes for us all!"

Legolas crept close to Janir's bed and looked the elf in the eyes. "What is this you speak? Explain yourself, Janire." He demanded.

Janire laughed and said "Dear dear Prince. You know nothing, yet seek all." He laughed again and then stopped suddenly, "Death rides a pale horse. I have seen him. Yes! Yes! It is Death that comes for us." Janire fell silent for the moment.

"I saw him, in the fog Prince Legolas," stated Janire forcefully. "It was he who attacked us and tried to pull me into his gaping maw." Janire started shrieking loudly, "Rows and rows of teeth. Endless. Always chewing. Chew chew chew! And he was pulling me into that maw. I heard the screams of the others. I saw them. Yes I did. I saw them." Janire cackled more.

Legolas jumped up and stared on at Janire in horror. Somehow he knew that Janire spoke the truth. His mouth was agape, and he his breathing was quick, heavy and short.

"I saw them!" Shrieked Janire. "Over and over they tumbled on and inbetween the jagged razor teeth. Screaming, always screaming. But they died not! Endless agony! Torture!" Janire shut his eyes and pulled agaisn't the straps. He began screaming more and more shrill.

"Death comes for the elves. Death! Death! Death!"

Legolas stumbled back until he fell into his father. Thranduil wrapped his arms about him. Legolas could not tear his eyes and ears away from Janire.

Janire pulled his head up and stared back at Legolas, "Death rides his pale horse and he wants you too, Legolas!" Janire collapsed onto his pillow and was silent.

**Chapter Four**

Legolas had withdrew both his daggers and stood leaning agaisnt his father, enveloped in his strong arms.

No one in the room moved, but stood staring at Janire.

Thranduil held his son, daring any to threaten his Greenleaf's life. Thranduil moved his son behind him and withdrew his sword. He eyed Janire, Azureil, then the others in the room.

"Know now," Thranduil bellowed throughout the room, "should any move agaisnt my son, I will personally cut off his or her head and mount it above my throne!"

Uraile stepped foward quickly, brought his right hand to his chest and swore, "And we would aide you, Sire!"

The elven company followed suit with a salute to show their loyalty.

Legolas stepped around his father and return the salute.

"Urenas, can any truth be trusted in what those two elves reported?" Asked Thranduil.

"Aye my Lord. They spoke truthfully," he answered.

"Come Legolas, Uraile, we will take counsel in my office," Thranduil said.

Thranduil, Legolas, Uraile, and the royal guard left the halls of healing and walked at a brisk pace to Thranduils personal office, just to the left of his recieving and throne room.

Legolas felt uneasy. His eyes darted over the walls, the floors, and windows. He knew not for what he searched. But he did know that he felt like a trapped rat and it unsettled him.

Thranduils brow was heavy and burrowed. He kept his thoughts turned to the report of the two elves in the halls of healing. He had never heard anything so fantastic, yet he wondered a big 'what if?'

Uraile followed his lords. He was silent, and felt a sour mood rising in himself. He remembered Janire's words directed at his lord Legolas. He was a young prince, sometimes impertinant and impatient, but made of a good heart and would someday make a good king for the people. Uraile did not like the threat agaisnt his prince, and would gladly fight to the death to protect him.

Thranduil led them across the marble floor of his throne room to his office, opened the door and went in and sat down behind his desk. Legolas and Uraile sat down in chairs opposite of Thranduil. A royal guard shut the door behind them. It was Thranduil who spoke first.

"Well, I for one am astonished at the reports of Azureil and Janire."

"And Ada, did not Janire used to have dark hair?"

Uraile answered Legolas, "Yes, my Lord, Janire's hair was a dark, dark raven color and thick too..."

Thranduil looked at his desk, and Legolas who had put away his daggers, sat tapping his slender fingertips together.

"What could turn his hair all gray and stringy?" Murmured Thranduil.

"And in the space of little more than an hour..." added Legolas.

Uraile cleared his throat. "My lords, I do not think we have much choice but to accept what they say, however wild it may sound."

"But if then their words are true, then that would mean the spectare within the fog is real." Legolas mumbled. Uraile swallowed hard, envisioning the words of Janire.

"And that their torment and suffering are real." Thranduil supposed.

"Ada, I have never heard of such a thing, nor read it in all my studies. How can such a thing exist? How would the Valar allow such a thing?"

"Son, the Valar allow Sauron to exist do they not? Not to mention the Balrog a most dreadful bane of elves, dragons and other horrid creatures on and in Arda. Mithrander used to say there were older and more evil things than that which I have mentioned dwelling in the deeps of the earth. Perhaps this is one of those things."

"A most dreadful evil," sighed Uraile.

They sat in silence for a good while, not sure of what to say or do next.

Legolas stood, unable to sit any longer and went over to the wall of books. He let his fingers play over the spines.

"Well, this is a foe beyond any of us, we must have help." Said Thranduil leaning back in his chair.

"But who can help us Ada? And how will we send word? Any who go out there in that fog, either die or go insane."

Thranduil looked at his decanter of wine. Suddenly he smiled, and knew the answer before him. "The same way we recieve my wine and send out for more, Legolas."

Legolas' eyes went wide as he spun around. "The river!"

Hope grew in their hearts.

"Where shall we seek the aide Ada, Imladris or Lothlorien?"

Thranduil chewed his lips a few seconds before answering, "I think Imladris and Lord Elrond. He is keeper of the ancient wisdoms and heirlooms. I think if any knowledge exists of our attacker, it will be found there. And if not, Lord Elrond will surely be able to summon Mithrandir, and other Lords and Ladies as might be able to aide us in our hour of need."

Legolas strode over to his father, "Ada, who will we send?"

Uraile shot up out of his chair, "I will go!"

Thranduil stood slowly and smoothed his kilt. "Yes Uraile, you will go also. But I will send Legolas. He is my official ambassor to the other elven realms. He is also my heir. Should things go badly here, my bloodline will continue in him. And you, Uraile, are witness to my words, and guard to my son." Uraile nodded his obediance.

"Nay Ada. I would stay, and fight by your side, till the end. I will not leave you Ada!" Legolas growled the last part.

"Peace son. Lord Elrond would not suspect your word, and hold them true. Time is precious, and we have none to waste. And should the worst of fates be upon us, I would have you live on, that the memory of my house and people die not also. Promise me son, that you will live on."

Legolas swallowed and rushed into his father's embrace. Tears slid down his face and he choked out, "I promise Ada. I will return with help. You and your house shall live, our people shall live."

Thranduil held his son closely, aware that this could be the last time he would have the precious gift. "I love you son. I always have, and I always will love you." He layed his face on the top of Legolas' head and breathed his scent.

"I love you Ada." Legolas squeezed his Father tighter and buried his head in his chest. "I love you Ada" he repeated again and again.

Uraile turned away, giving them as much privacy as he could. After a good while, Thranduil released his son and looked at him. He brought up his hand and using his fingers, wiped away the tears staining Legolas' face.

"Cry not my son. Save your tears for what may be ahead," Thranduil gently said.

Legolas pulled himself together, and hardened his heart.

"Let us be about the saving of our Kingdom. To the vaults!" Commanded Thranduil.

Authors note: Long has this story been tumbling around in my head and here is the beginning of it. I will update regular and often. Please review and let me know what you think.


	2. Chapter 5

**A Journey for Hope**

**Chapter Five**

Thranduil, Legolas, and Uraile and the royal guard stood on the stone dock looking at the water flowing under the palace.

Uraile stepped away and field promoted his seargent to the rank of leuitenant. "You will never stray from King Thranduils side, his life being in your charge. You will obey him in all things, except at the endagering of his life. Do you understand?"

The newly promoted leuitenant Reilburn thumped his chest with his fist and said, "Yes Captain."

Uraile nodded, "Then take charge of the guard until my return." Uraile grabbed an empty barrel and motioned for others to help him.

The pulled it close to the edge of the dock and removed the lid. Legolas peered inside and looked at his father.

"I have to fit in there Ada?"

"Actually you and Uraile have to fit in that barrel," replied Thranduil.

Uraile and Legolas looked at each other then inside the barrel again.

"Plus your weapons!" added Thranduil. He watched their expressions fall off their faces. "And some food and water too!" Uraile and Legolas squirmed and Thranduil was beginning to enjoy himself.

"Not to mention some currency to obtain other necessities for your travels." Thranduil paused again and watched them some more. He could not resist anymore and said, "Oh yeah, and your horses too!"

Legolas frowned, and started considering how it was to be accomplished, then smirked at his father. "Ada!" Thranduil just grinned and waved his hands.

Uraile smirked as well, and clinched his stomache muscles to keep from laughing aloud.

"Who's first in?" Thranduil asked.

Legolas looked at Uraile. He did not like the thought of climbing in on top of another ellon, nor of having one climb on top of him and he sneered.

Uraile knew what Legolas was thinking. He wasn't real comfortable with the thought of it either. "My King, can we not use two barrels?"

Thranduil felt a snicker building up inside of him but held it in, "No, I'm afraid not. Couldn't have you two getting seperated. Have to stay together!" He put his hands on his hips, began bobbing his head up and down and smiled ear to ear.

Legolas looked at his father. 'He's enjoying this,' he thought. 'At our expense too. Death surrounds us and he's making a joke!' Legolas sighed and said, "Very well then, I shall go in first." He climbed in gracefully and sat with his legs crossed. He looked up at Uraile and waited.

Uraile sighed as well. 'How undignified,' he thought. With as much fortitude as he could muster, he gently climbed in on top of his prince and sat on his lap with his back to Legolas' face and his knees drawn up in front of him. 'Oh yeah, this is fun...waited my whole life for this' he thought sarcastically.

Thranduil began dropped in two satchels filled with food, water, medicine and gold currency for their journey. He quietly laughed to himself. He then stuck their weapons in and around them to fit inside the barrel. Thranduil watched Legolas disgustedly blow at a stray hair in his face and watched Uraile stiffened at the sudden breeze on his ear.

Thranduil could not resist. "You know I think we could fit one more in there." Legolas and Uraile twisted their heads up at Thranduil who was already pointing at someone they could not see.

"You, you're little, come here," commanded Thranduil. "You won't need that spear just drop it somewhere." Thranduil sneeked a peek at his son and captain. They were obviously tweaked. They could not see him waving "no" with his other hand at the royal guard. They also could not see the royal guard holding their hands over their mouths to stiffle laughter.

Legolas and Uraile started wiggling around inside the barrel, muttering curses and trying to figure out how to get another elf in with them. Exasperated they looked up and saw Thranduil laughing silently at them, holding the lid to the barrel. Their mouths fell open and just stared at him in wonder.

"Goodbye my beloved Greenleaf. Fare thee well." And Thranduil layed the lid on the barrel and watched as his guards sealed it shut. He looked longingly as the guards pushed the barrel over the edge and into the water. "Greenleaf!" He whispered. Thranduil shut his eyes and turned to walk away. He felt his heart would break inside of him. 


	3. Chapter 6

The Haunting

Chapter Six

The Journey Continues

Legolas and Uraile felt themselves fall into the water and it hurt. They cried out and howled when the barrel tipped over sideways. Legolas laid underneath Uraile. His disgust mounted when some water seeped into the barrel.

"Uraile! Get off me!" He shouted.

Uraile scooted off top of Legolas and the barrel rolled again.

"Uugg!" Legolas snarled his face in pain. His groin had landed directly on top of Uraile's knees.

Now Legolas lay on top of Uraile panting in pain and paler than usual. He pushed himself up with his arms and tried to untangle his legs.

"My Prince, I am sorry, please forgive me," begged Uraile.

"Just. Don't. Move," muttered Legolas. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter. In a few minutes he opened them and looked at Uraile. This was not how he ever pictured finding himself. Legolas breathed deeply and relaxed.

"Uraile, do you know how long before we reach Lake-town?" Asked Legolas.

"No sire, I do not know," answered Uraile.

"I am going to try and lie on my side. Be ready to try and balance the barrel," instructed Legolas.

Uraile nodded and Legolas gently moved himself until he laid beside Uraile. The barrel threatened to roll again, but the elves managed to keep it balanced.

"Uraile, I am swearing you to secrecy to never reveal any of this," said Legolas.

"You will give me a nice raise to never tell any of this."

"Are you blackmailing me?"

"Yes."

Legolas harumped, but instantly liked this captain of his father's turned his personal guard. Legolas knew if the positions were changed, he would blackmail him.

Legolas smiled at Uraile, "An elf after my own heart. We're going to get along fine."

Uraile smiled back at the prince. He hoped they did indeed get along well with one another.

They laid in the barrel, bobbing along the surface of Forest River for what seemed like an eternity. The air inside the barrel grew stuffy and hot. Legolas and Uraile were starting to get more irritated as the minutes grew longer, and the barrel leaked in more water.

Thump! Their eyes flew wide as the barrel was jolted to a sudden stop.

"Push Uraile, Push on the top with all your might."

Uraile and Legolas pushed on the lid, putting their backs and legs into. Within seconds the top cracked a little, encouraging them with the promise of freedom. They grunted and pushed harder. The lid fell off and the barrel began to fill with water.

Legolas pushed himself out of the barrel and into the shallow cold water. He stood up and grabbed the barrel. Uraile climbed out clutching the two satchels. Legolas reach inside and grabbed their weapons. Together they stumbled up the bank of the Forest River.

Legolas and Uraile sighed in relief. There was no sign of the fog here. The land was free and clear. The trees stood tall and proud and the forest floor was clean and uncumbered with debri. The sky was not overcast, but a brillant blue, and the sun shone strongly. They both breathed deeply and laid against trees for comfort. They felt revived.

Uraile looked about him. "Do you know where we are Prince Legolas?"

Legolas looked around them. He called to memory the maps he had studied, but looking around, he could see no landmark. "I have nothing in which to navigate. And Uraile, outside of the palace, call me simply Legolas. Forget the formalities and titles. I would be anonymous."

Uraile nodded his agreement, "Yes I think that is wise Legolas." Uraile walked closer to the stream and watched it a few moments. Then he stared sideways at the sun. "Legolas, judging by the position of the sun and the swiftness of the river and the approxiamate time we left the palace, I would say that we are no more than two leagues from Lake-town, in that direction."

Legolas nodded. Uraile gave one of the satchels to Legolas and in turn took his weapons from the prince. They began to plod on in the direction that Uraile had indicated. They walked along the river's bank, leaving no marks for any to follow. They felt paranoid of the fog, and the spectre that dwelled within it.

They picked up their pace when they sighted rooftops ahead of them. The people of Lake-town had dealings with the elves, so Legolas and Uraile felt no need to disguise themselves or hide their ears.

"When we reach the town, we need to purchase horses and be gone. Every moment counts, and we cannot tary, Uraile."

"I agree Legolas. Our people need us, and have only what provisions they already had laid up in store. And there is no gaurantee that they will be able to keep out the fog or that which dwells within it."

Legolas felt his stomache quiver. He already knew that which Uraile had reminded him, but had pushed it far into the recesses of his mind. He could not bear the thought of his father desperately fighting for his life agaisnt a foe none of them knew how to defeat. Legolas bit his lip to distract his thoughts from the situation at home and how easily all could be lost. He pushed himself to run faster, and Uraile kept pace.

They slowed to a brisk walk as they entered the edge of town.

Lake-town was a bustling little town of more than a few homesteads, a bakery, a blacksmith, a dock for ships, a few inns, and a plethera other shops. It also did boast of a school. The people of Lake-town did not want their children to grow up illiterate. All the basics were taught and there was not one in the town who could not read, write, perform arithmatic, and had a basic working knowledge of the geography of Middle Earth, as well as it's history. The boys were also taught to hunt, swordmanship, and agriculture. The girls were taught the healing arts, weaving and needlework, cooking and the curing of meats, and a crude form of canning vegetables to store up for the winter months. Lake-town could be called a successful town of the race of men, where law, order and justice ruled. Crime was almost non-existant, the most being a baked pie taken from a window seal while it cooled, and that was almost always looked upon as a compliment, though slightly irritating. The best pie bakers had learned to bake two, one for the taking, and one for the home. The one for the home was generally hidden just inside the window out of sight. It had almost become a badge of honor for the ladies to be able to brag about another one of their pies being taken. The sheriff would make a report, look around the window where the 'crime' had taken place, ask a few questions for show, and let the matter quietly drop. After all, he could not bring himself to punish anyone for the swiping of a good home made pie, and he understood it had become more of a competition among the ladies as to who could make the best pie and get it taken from the window seal. Which as he figured it, meant the men of town were eating pretty good, and that meant more peace and quiet with all the happy stomaches. Lake-town was prosperous.

Legolas and Uraile walked on the sidewalks of the town, keeping an eye out for where they might purchase horses. Legolas saw the smithy and pointed it out to Uraile. They crossed the main street of the town and made their way there.

"Excuse me good sir," inquired Legolas, "might you be able to suggest where we may purchase two good strong able horses?"

The blacksmith looked up from his work and smiled when he saw the elves. He recognised their dress as from being from Mirkwood. He traded with the elves of Mirkwood often and had even learned his trade from them. "Aye master elves. Round back I've a few that might help you on your way."

Legolas and Uraile followed the blacksmith to his lot at the back of his smithy. "Those two there," the blacksmith pointed out, "I would trust to take me own to Gondor and back! They're good strong horses, thoroughbreds, fine enough for any King, gentle enough for any woman or child to ride."

Legolas eyed the two horses the blacksmith spoke of. He smiled at the beauty each possessed. They were good strong horses, well tended and cared for. "I would be honored to ride upon such as those," said Legolas, "How much sir and we will be on our way, as need presses us for time, and we cannot linger."

The blacksmith looked at Legolas and in that moment recognised him for who he was. He knew that the Prince of Mirkwood did not reveal himself for a reason, and he immediately made up his mind.

"I could not take anything for them master elf."

Legolas and Uraile's faces were downfallen.

"No now hear me out," continued the blacksmith. "It was the elves who taught me my trade, and as you can see, I and my family prosper because of their generousity. Now I would like to partially repay my debt. I lend you the horses for as long as you need them. Worry not, and return them when you may, be it a month from now, or even years. And take from my wife what provisions you need for your journey. I will not accept no for an answer." He gently smiled at the elves, who could not believe what their ears had heard.

Legolas and Uraile bowed low, and thanked him for his generousity, and bestowed blessings upon he and his family. They stood aright and the man led them to his house and begged them to make known to his wife of their needs. Legolas told the good lady of the house he and his companions needs and she gave him a smile and disappeared. A few seconds later a young maid returned with mugs of a fresh fruit drink, and a platter of meats, cheeses and breads.

"My mistress begs you to rest yourselfs in the pavilion yon, and partake of these refreshments while she and her husband make ready your horses and supplies."

"Thank you fair maiden," replied Uraile. He and Legolas followed the maid to the pavilion and sat down. Another maid appeared with basins of water and towels for the elves to wash their faces and hands. Legolas and Uraile were impressed and pleased at the hospitality of the blacksmith and his family. The maids left, and lowered the flaps, giving the elves privacy.

Legolas looked around inside the pavilion. It was a rather large tent, with ventways all around the top of the cloth walls, allowing air to freely circulate. There were tables and comfortable chairs placed in various positions through out the tent pavilion. Legolas and Uraile took advantage of the basins and towels. Soon they were reminded that they had not eaten at all that day when their stomaches growled loud enough for the other to hear. They sat and ate in silence, noting the wholesome flavor and feel of the foods they devoured. They washed everything down with the fruit drinks that had been given them. Within a few minutes of them finishing eating, a tinkling bell could be hear at the flaps of the tent.

"My lords?"

Legolas and Uraile jumped up. "Enter please," called Legolas.

The jolly blacksmith stepped inside, "Master Elves, we have prepared the horses and provisions, and await you, if you are ready to travel."

"Good sir, what is your name?" asked Legolas.

The blacksmith looked up at Legolas and replied, "I am Stephen, son of David. And because of my profession, I am commonly called Stephen Smith."

Legolas looked proudly at the man, "I name you elf friend, Stephen Smith, son of David. If ever you are in need of assistance, be it great or small, seek it from the elves, and tell them that Legolas of the Woodland Realm named you such for your generousity in his time of need."

The blacksmith bowed low to Legolas, who also bowed to Stephen. Stephen smile in gratitude and showed Legolas and Uraile to their horses. "I did not saddle them, for I am aware that elves do not ride in such a way, but have instead attached this harness' at the back of the horses in which to carry your goods." Stephen beamed.

"It is a good design, Stephen, and smart also. We will tell others of your ingenuity and send them to you for trading and business," Legolas said sincerely.

Stephen's eyes grew wide when he saw how easily Legolas and Uraile mounted the horses.

"Now we must beg your leave, for time is of the essence for us, and give this warning we ask you to pass on to your folk. Greenwood the Great is under assault from an unknown and unseen enemy. Lake-town is not threatened, for it is a bane of elves only. We would suggest that you and yours avoid our realm until we return with glader tidings." With that, Legolas and Uraile sped away towards the Esgaroth.

Just under two hours they reached the Esgaroth and turned south, towards the tip of it's south end. Onward they rode until Legolas and Uraile could see the southern tip of the Long Lake.They had ridden for four hours and Legolas called a halt to rest their horses.

Uraile understood the need to rest the horses to keep them healthy, but felt an urgency inside his mind. He begrudged the time of rest, but hated the idea of walking more.

They watered their horses and brushed them down, carefully inspecting their hooves. Satisfied that all was well, they took a little water themselves.

"Legolas, have you any idea of the path we are taking?"

"We will follow the Celduin to the Old Forest Road, which if it is clear and shows no sign of that cursed fog, we will take to the Old Ford. From there we will continue on the high pass through the Misty Mountains to the Bruinen. We follow that to Rivendell. About four days in all."

"Four days? Can we afford four days Legolas?" asked Uraile.

"If we and our horses are to make the trip, yes four days. It will take longer if we push the horses too hard and have to walk the distance. Then there would be less hope for our families, kith and kindred," stated Legolas matter-of-factly.

To Uraile, the four days seemed as though as age would pass. He had not envisioned this trip taking as much time. He wished to push onward, reaching Rivendell by noon of the next day and immediately returning.

"Patience Uraile, I wish it were faster also. But these horses will not make the trip if we abuse them. And then we would be on foot, and in need of more horses. Who would sell us any, if they found out we killed these two? And I can not run as fast as a horse. This is best, trust me."

The thirty minute rest was over and Legolas mounted his horse again. Uraile was quick to follow. They rode on toward the end of the Esgaroth and followed the Celduin for about sixteen leagues before turning onto the Old Forest Road. They had kept a sharp eye for anything unusual, and had so far met good fortune.

Legolas called an early halt for rest. "Uraile, you tend our horses, and I will scout ahead on foot. If I do not return in thirty minutes, follow the Celduin to the brown lands and cut west to Lorien. Ask for aid in reaching Rivendell. The Lord and Lady of the Wood will assist you. Thirty minutes only, Uraile, and no more."

"But Legolas, I was charged in safeguarding your life. I cannot stay here and you face the danger."

"Never-the-less, you will stay here and tend the horses, for that is my wish. Both of us cannot die, one has to live to get aide back to our people. And if I am not back in thirty minutes, then I am dead and you must continue at all costs. This is the most dangerous part of our journey, Uraile. The Old Forest Road cuts through the middle of Greenwood the Great. But if the way is clear, then we shall save precious time. If it is not clear, then we must travel to the Brown Lands and cut around the end of the forest, taking much more time. Time our families may not have. Let us pray to the Valar that the way is clear." Legolas spirited away into the forest.

Uraile dismounted and began tending Legolas' horse first. When he was finished he cared for his. He kept a watchful eye on the sun and the forest road. Silently he did pray. Mostly he prayed for Legolas' return. He drank a few sips of the water and nibbled on some fruit.

Legolas looked at the road ahead of him and the forest on it's sides. He remembered from his duties at the palace the previous day of there being reports of spiders in this area. He had an arrow docked in his bow, and sprinted off the road and into the forest.

Mirkwood. Greenwood the Great he preferred to think of his home. How he loved these woods, and longed for the shadow to lift away. He would see his lands free again. And he knew within his heart that one day, the evil of his world would be overthrown.

The woods were dark, but Legolas could not sense any danger or malice.

He quietly moved in and around the woods, mindful of the time. He found the area clear of obstacles, and enemies. He prayed a silent prayer of thanks to Elberieth. He cautiously wound his way back to Uraile and the horses.

"Ah, Legolas, you have just returned in time," smiled Uraile.

"Yes, I know it would pain you greatly to leave me behind, but remember, without me, no raise," chuckled Legolas.

"Aye, that be true. Mayhaps I'd better be a little more mindful of that." Uraile smiled at Legolas, glad for his safe return.

Legolas smiled back, thankful for the banter to lighten their moods. "I have seen no sign of the fog. I think it is concentrated on the palace grounds. I could see no sign of spiders either, or orcs. Elberieth clears our way."

Uraile handed the prince a flagon of water, and some of the fruit. "Eat quickly, every second counts."

Legolas nodded and ate the fruit quickly. In a few minutes they had repacked their food and water and were again speeding away.

Legolas knew this part of the journey would take a little over seventy three leagues. He grew impatient with the thought of being in his beloved woods and having to outrun the fog. He feared that somehow it would know that he and Uraile were here, out in the open and would come for them. He feared attacks by spiders. He did not want to waste precious time having to kill spiders or orcs. He longed to be in Rivendell, gathering Elrond and others to his father's aide. Subconsciously he urged his mount faster. He had made a decision. They would push the horses hard for this part of the trek, and ride through the night.

Uraile urged his horse faster to keep up with Legolas. He was glad the prince did not keep the slower pace of before. He loved his home, but at the moment he felt vunerable surrounded by the forest. He kept glancing to their sides and behind them. He half expected to see the spectre creeping up on them with that cursed fog.

Legolas estimated that at their current pace, including time for rest periods, they would make the Old Ford in about eight hours. They would cross and make camp on the other side, away from the visions that haunted their thoughts.

The sun began it's slow afternoon decent. Legolas and Uraile rode without speaking, intent on reaching out with their elven senses trying to detect any danger, or anything out of the unusual. Legolas did not like the silence of the forest. Birds could normally be heard singing, but there were none. No sounds from the other forest creatures could be detected either. Legolas pondered the mystery and concluded that perhaps it was that the presence of the fog on the forest that had driven even the animals into hiding with fear. Still, neither he nor Uraile could sense anything other that the vegetation of the forest.

Another four hours had past and Legolas faithfully called for a rest. Uraile was out of his reckoning. "Legolas, how much further before we are at the Old Ford you spoke of earlier?"

Legolas could feel Uraile's unease and he understood it. "We are about halfway."

"Evening approaches. Will we continue to ride or make camp?"

"We will continue until we are well on the other side of the ford. I do not wish to linger here."

Uraile was relieved. He did not wish to linger either. He thought back to the hour when he and Legolas were in Thranduils office. He almost regretted having volunteered and felt silly for having jumped up so quickly. But in the end, he knew he would not have had it any other way. He could not have let his prince come on this journey with any other than himself. Legolas was the future of his people, and he had to protect that future in whatever way he could.

Legolas felt his spine tingle, and the little hairs on the nape of his neck stand up. He jerked his head up and looked about them. Without thinking, he had his bow in his hand, nocked and ready for whatever made it's presence known.

"There Legolas!" exclaimed Uraile.

Legolas looked in the direction Uraile indicated. He could not believe what his eyes told him. He blinked a few times in disbelief and raised his bow.

Authors Note: Hope you enjoyed! Take a minute and let me know what you think. More on the way, I promise. Hint- I live for reviews!!!

After doing some research on the net, I found out that thoroughbreds are great long distance runners and can reach speeds of 40mph. Also, checking the maps in the lotr books, I found out that the path our two elves will take is approxiamately 410 miles or 136.66 leagues as one league is equal to 3 miles. I also found out in research that you can ride a healthy thoroughbred for four hours with a thirty minute break after each 4 hour block for a total of 10 hours a day without harming the horse. Doing the math, our friends can cover the distance in three days and 8 hours, averaging 102.51 miles per day at 13.66 mph.


	4. Chapter 7

The Haunting

Chapter Seven

by Bethuviel

Disclaimer: Don't own Middle Earth, wish I did. J.R.R. Tolkien's Estate owns it all, except my ideas and plots. I do not recieve any compensation for my work, except the sheer pleasure of writing.

If you like what I'm writing, send a review. If you don't like what I'm writing, send a review. I admit it, I love them.

Legolas blinked a few times, unable to believe what his eyes told him. He raised his bow and took aim. He let his arrow fly, and was rewarded with the thunk of it hitting true to his mark. He and Uraile crept slowly down the road, watching for others like it. The horses stayed behind, skittering nervously.

"Is that what I think it is, Legolas?"

Legolas gave the big hairy a nudge with his boot tip. "I think so."

"But when did spiders become white?"

Legolas shrugged his shoulders, "I guess like Janire's hair. An albino spider. Maybe the fog doesn't like them either."

"Did you see how it was wobbling around?" Uraile held his arms up in the air and mimicked the motions of the spider. "I almost felt sorry for it."

"Yeah, almost. Too bad the fog just didn't stick with the spiders. Reckon there's more or this one just managed to get away?"

Uraile and Legolas thought for a moment. It was strange, and spooky. There weren't any animals to be seen or heard, and the forest possessed a strange quietness about it.

"I think that the fog wiped out all the life in the forest before moving on to the palace. I think this one spider managed to escape and still died for it's troubles. That's what I think," expounded Uraile.

"I think you're right Uraile. With the exception of this whitened spider, we haven't seen or heard any of nature that we should. But when I was scouting ahead of us, I saw no dead bodies."

Uraile hunched his shoulders and peered around them into the forest, "Maybe the spectre ate them..."

"Maybe.."

Legolas and Uraile walked back to their horses and mounted. "We will not stay here. Our lands are under the curse of that blasted fog and spectre!" Legolas signaled his horse forward.

They rode fast and hard, as if all of mordor and it's minions were at their tails. Legolas lay on his horses neck and rode harder. Uraile did as his prince and together they rode toward the Old Ford. Three hours later they crossed the Old Ford over the Anduin and rode without stopping for another two leagues.

Legolas called a stop for a much needed rest as the horses were severly winded and sweating. He and Uraile brought them slowly to a walk and dismounted. They continued to walk until they felt sure it was safe for the horses to stop after their hard running.

The sun had set and night was upon them. Legolas and Uraile rubbed their horses down, fed and watered them. They set up a campsite but left off the fire. They felt no need to announce to anyone or thing their whereabouts.

Uraile gave his prince rations for the night and then sat down beside him eating his own. "How long shall we stay Legolas?"

"A few hours at least, for the horses sakes. We drove them pretty hard the last bit, and we have also the Misty Mountains ahead of us. There we will more than likely have to lead them in places. A hard stretch before us that pass will be."

"Aye. And we could start off walking the horses when we leave out of here, to let them rest a little more."

"We may cut off a day maybe another half day of our travels if we continue through the night." Added Legolas between mouthfulls of dried meat.

They sat peacefully and watched the horses. The elves were at ease, for here they could hear the normal sounds of night creatures. The curse did not lay here as it did on their homelands. Legolas looked up and watched the stars. The night sky was clear, and each star twinkled brightly. He began singing a song of Elberieth. Uraile listened a short while and then joined in. They sang into the night and it gladdened their hearts.

When the moon had passed her zenith, Uraile began packing camp. He sensed that his prince was ready to leave. Legolas was pulled from his thoughts and saw that Uraile was packing camp.

"Excuse me Legolas, but it seemed to me that the horses had rested enough, and well it's about time we were on our way."

Legolas nodded his head, "No apology is necessary, you are right." Legolas stood up and helped Uraile finish. They led their horses at a brisk pace and walked for three leagues before remounting. They rode the horses at a canter.

The terrain began to change from flat to an upward slope, becoming a little rocky. They were nearing the Misty Mountains. Uraile could see the peakes risings ahead of them, and sighed in relief. He knew that they were making good time.

They had ridden for almost for three and a half hours and the sun would be rising soon. "Let us walk the horses Uraile, I do not want to attempt the mountain pass under darkness."

They dismounted and led the horses again at a brisk pace. When they stood a the base of the Misty Mountains, Legolas called for another rest period. The sun was tipping the horizon, it's first rays stretching out over the land. Legolas looked at their path before them and was glad for the summer. He did not want to have to take the pass with snow still on it.

"Come Uraile. The sun breaks the day anew, and with it, hope for our people rests upon us. Let us be off."

Steady up and up they rode on the High Pass through the Misty Mountains. The path was good but narrow in some places getting rocky. There, in the narrow reaches, Legolas and Uraile led the horses, slow and steady. But the horses were sure footed, and followed the elves, for they trusted them. At the crest of the mountain pass, they halted. The sun would not reach noon for another two hours, and Legolas thought the decent would go quicker than the climbing had.

Legolas could almost smell Imaldris and he licked his lips in antiscipation. He longed to be there, and gather what help could be given. He only hoped that the help would be enough to save his father. He stretched out his senses, trying to feel his Adar, but it was beyond his reach. He slumped his shoulders and sighed.

"Do not give up hope Legolas. I'm sure Thranduil is alright. He has not lived all these thousands of years to be defeated yet. We will reach them in time," consoled Uraile. It saddened him to see his prince under such duress.

"Thank you, Uraile." Legolas straightened his shoulders and mounted his horse. "Time is wasting here."

Legolas did not know if the decent was easier, but it felt as though it were and time passed quickly for the elves. The sun reached noon and they were at the bottom of the pass.

"Let us be done with this then." Uraile urged his horse into a full gallop and Legolas followed. They followed the Bruinen and bore southward to Rivendell. Within a few hours they were riding through the edges of Imladris. Harder they rode, the horses not holding back. Their pulses quickened when they beheld the gates leading into the courtyard of Lord Elrond.

They skidded to halts and quickly dismounted.

Lord Elrond greeted them and Legolas and Uraile bowed low.

Authors Note: They finally made it! Hooray!! More's coming. I wonder what Elrond will do? Naw, just kidding, I already know, ha ha ha.

Review me and tell me what you think, good or bad. It helps me to do a better job.


	5. Chapter 8

The Haunting

Chapter Eight

The Homefront

by Bethuviel

Disclaimer: I don't own Middle Earth, J.R.R. Tolkien's Estate does. I also do not recieve any compensation except the pure joy of writing, in which I delight.

Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! Keep them coming!! Lets me know how I'm doing and where I could improve. Also lets me know that you're interested in what I'm writing, and it's ok to continue. So review me.

Thranduil paced around in his private office. He was riddled with guilt and worry.

'What have I done?' he thought. 'I've sent them to their deaths. My own son. Sent him to his death. Valar forgive me, what have I done?' Thranduil paced faster, enclasping his hands in front of him with his forefingers pointed out straight and twiddled his thumbs. Back and forth, the thumbs warred with each other. He stopped abruptly and noticed his hands.

"It would have been death to keep him here. No, my Greenleaf is not dead. They made it out, alive. He lives, even if I do not survive this, he will live. My golden one lives." He said it aloud, to reassure himself. He closed his eyes and tightened his jaw. "He lives," he repeated to himself.

Leuitenant Reilburn rushed into Thranduil office, "Forgive me sire, you must come, the windows!"

Thranduil ran after his leuitenant. They came to a halt so sudden that they slid a few feet. Thranduil regained his balance and looked at his windows. They looked the same as they had since they were installed. Thranduil looked at Leuitenant Reilburn and questioned, "Well, what about them?"

"There Sire!" Pointed the distressed leuitenant.

Thranduil spun his head around. His mouth fell agape and he backed up a few steps and withdrew his sword. The window bent inwards, slightly at first, then more and more, until it looked as though it would burst. Thranduil held his breath and waited. He raised his sword into the air and stood in the 'high guard.' A fury grew in his eyes as he waited patiently. His guards ran to place themselves between their King and the window. Thranduil never took his eyes off the window and a snarl revealed his perfect white teeth. He waited, every muscle tense, as the window bent in, then out, and back and forth. The guards withdrew their swords, the archers standing behind their King, nocked arrows and waited.

Leuitenant Reilburn touched Thranduil's arm and pulled at him gently, "Come, Sire, you can not be here, but must lead us in our fight from elsewhere."

Thranduil stared at his leuitenant and shouted, "I will **not** flee! I fear not death should he come for me! Let him come! Let. Him. Come." Thranduil growled, "Let him come and taste of my sword."

Leuitenant Reilburn stepped away from Thranduil in awe. Never had he seen or heard of his lord's wrath, and he felt small standing beside him. With one hand he withdrew his sword, and with the other a short sword. He hardened his jaw and stood proudly beside his king.

Thranduil lowered his sword, spun around and faced his archers with a wicked grin on his face. "You, in the last row. Prepare your arrows for fire and go to the Omnate." He addressed his leuitenant next. "Reilburn, take the archers to the Omante and have them to shoot lit arrows into the fog at our windows. Have the archers to shoot in an open spread top to bottom and watch for the effect upon the fog. I will stand here and fight with the guards should we be breached."

Leuitenant Reilburn nodded and called for the archers to follow him. Thranduil resumed his stand, watching and waiting.

The leuitenant and the archers rushed into the Omante. The windows were clear and showed no signs of the menace that stalked below.

"You there, open those windows." He turned to the archers, "Light the arrows and fire at the fog in front of the window where the attack is centered." The elves opened the windows and stood back for the archers.

The archers stepped up and crowded into the openings of the windows, their arrows flaming.

"Firstborn! Aim! Fire!" Away the arrows sped, whistling as they went.

"Reload!" An elf went to each, lighting the arrows. "Aim! Fire!" Another volley of flaming arrows sped through the air.

"Sir! Sir!" A private called to the leuitenant. "The fog, it backs away from the palace window!"

Hope appeared instantly on the elves faces and the leuitenant made his way to look out himself.

Suddenly the private shrieked, "It comes to us!"

Leuitenant Reilburn gained the view of the Omnate windows and saw that the private spoke truthfully. Leuitenant Reilburn backed away quickly and glanced around him. His eyes fell on the large table standing in the middle of the room. He started grabbing elves and shoving them towards it. "Break it apart!" He shouted.

He grabbed at other elves and shoved them to the doors, "Bring back as much as you can carry that will burn! Quickly!"

"Archers, reload!" A private ran to each lighting the arrows again.

"Aim in front of the approaching fog. Create a barrier! Fire!" He screamed.

The arrows whistled again landing a few feet in front of the fog. The flames on the arrows burned brightly. The fog briefly halted, then spread into a 'u' shape and advanced again.

"Reload! Fire!" The arrows spread in front of the fog again. Leuitenant took advantage of the precious seconds and arranged two lines of the archers. "Keep firing by line until otherwise ordered!" He shouted.

Leuitenant Reilburn turned to the other elves. He saw they were making quick work of the table. "Take the pieces outside the windows. Form a barrier around the Omnate!"

The others he had sent below had returned, carrying armloads of broken furniture, drapes and other things they could carry. "Sir!"

"Drop it in the center and go for more. Nothing is precious! Anything that will burn!" The elves ran to the center of the room, dropped their burdens, and ran out again.

"No, don't make the barrier so close to the windows. Further out, a good fifteen feet at least," ordered the leuitenant. "We must keep the Omnate clear of smoke and that cursed fog!"

Thranduil ran into the omnate, breathing hard, sword in hand. His royal guard just behind him. Leuitenant Reilburn saw his king and shouted to the others who had begun to bow, "Don't stop!" He shouted, "Keep working!"

Thranduils eyes widened a little and Reilburn rushed to explain, "My Lord, the fire does indeed hamper the fog. But it is obvious, there is an inteligence behind the fog, driving it, willing it where it may."

"Good good Reilburn. But can you tell me why the guard is tearing up my furniture?"

The elves continued to work in a flurry around them.

"Your pardon my Lord. When I understood that the fire does work agaisn't the fog, I ordered a barrier to be built around the Omnate. From here, all of the palace is observed and can be defended. I needed fuel Sire."

Thranduil shook his head up and down. He was impressed. "Well, Captain Reilburn, excellant job! Most excellant!"

Reilburn's eyes widened and he bowed "Thank you my Lord."

"I deem that all may burned in all defense, but one thing. It is sacred to me, and to Legolas. The portrait of his mother. All else may be burned, even the throne itself."

Reilburn ran to a window and shouted out "Not so low, pile it higher!"

He grabbed an elf who ran in with armloads of fuel, "Go and fetch arrows for the archers, including stripping. Hurry!"

Thranduil motioned to his new captain, "I would deem that we should also prepare a staggered retreat. Barriers such as is being built outside the Omnate, but inside the palace should we be breached. And alas, a place of a last stand. I would think the throne room as there is only one way in and out." Understanding washed over Reilburns face.

"Always prepare for the worst, and hope for the best," Thranduil explained to Reilburn.

"We shall make our preparations for the worst, Mighty King Thranduil, but our hope lies with Prince Legolas and what help he brings."

Thranduil clapped Reilburn on the shoulder. "I'll be back shortly. Keep steady at it. I'm going to go and explain what I want done and where."

Thranduil left the Omnate, almost running into an elf carrying bagfuls of arrows and stripping. He could hear Reilburn calling out orders above him as he and his royal guard made their way back down to the main corriders.

Thranduil stood in behind the guards at the entry doors. "How do they hold?"

Seargent Faingin bowed to his king, "They hold well, Sire. They are strong and the seal remains intact."

Thranduil looked at his seargent thoughtfully. "You are now promoted to the rank of leuitenant. Have someone bring you a blue plume and take a scarlet one to Reilburn in the Omnate."

Leuitenant Faingin stuttered his thanks and called a private over, giving him instructions.

"Leave someone in charge of the door, I must speak to you more privately," commanded Thranduil.

Faingin did as ordered and stepped away to the King, who waited for him about twenty feet away.

"Leuitenant Faingin, do not be alarmed for that which I am about to instruct you."

"You have my confidence, my Lord."

"Good. I think we should prepare for the absolute worse, in case help is delayed," Thranduil eyed his leuitenant.

Faingin nodded his understanding.

Thranduil continued, "I want all the prisoners brought up from the vaults below. It is to be explained to them of our current situation, and that their pardons will greatly depend upon their behavior now. They are to be used to build barricades that will burn, every fifty feet from here to the throne room. They will build them so that the barricades will burn from roof to floor, wall to wall, but so that we may retreat through them. Outside the throne room doors a barricade is to be built, and just inside the doors, another. If need arises, we shall make our final stand there, as there is but one entry to defend. Inside the throne room, all things that burn that are not used without shall be gathered, including from my families personal quarters. And I mean everything that burns, with the exception of the Portrait of my beloved wife. That shall be hidden away, kept safe. I will not suffer it to be burnt. All else is fuel to the fire, including clothing, drapes, carpets, if it burns, it is now fuel. Do you understand so far?"

"Yes my Lord King."

"Next I want all the women, children, and noncombatants in the throne room. They shall gather in the very back. Arm the Elleths. Should we fail, then they shall have to defend the children as best they may. Understood? Good. And no big rackets or panics allowed. Everyone shall act becoming our race, calm, and orderly. I would not have the defense of the palace fall apart due to a few who cannot control themselves in our dark hour. And Faingin, do not forget the Halls of Healing. Roll the beds if you must. Arm the military students behind the Elleths. Put the cooks and such as they need to the left and in the rear. The sick to the right and rear."

Faingin listened intently to his king. Sorrow was upon his heart, but he hid it, and pushed it out of his mind. He could not believe it had come to this, and never in his life had he ever imagined such a thing would come to existance. The Elves of the Woodland Realm were preparing for the annihilation of their people.

"And inside the throne room, have prepared great torches that can be wielded as weapons. The training weapons are made of wood. They would probably be best. Wrap them, thickly so they will burn long and slow and can be used by the soldiers. And Faingin, have sent to me the head cook, Januis. Now go quickly, but delegate only to those strong of mind and heart, trustworthy. I shall be in my office, making final arrangements should we fall before help arrives."

"Yes my Lord. It shall be done as you have instructed." Fangin bowed short and ran to gather those elves he felt were best suited to carry out the orders of the King.

King Thranduil sat behind his desk. He had in front of him blank parchment, quills, and a bowl of black ink. He looked around him. He remembered Legolas standing by the bookcases only a day before, his fingers running over the spines of the books. His memory stretched back to the days when his son was an elfling, playing quietly on the floor as he went about the matters of the kingdom. He remembered showing Legolas various documents that needed approval, bouncing him on his knee, teaching him chess and how it related to warfare. He remembered the quiet talks of Legolas' teen years when he became interested in the Elleths. Thranduil smiled. He thought to the times of the forced studies of the governing of the kingdom Legolas had taken at a little table behind his desk. He remembered the snarl on his son's face as he read and studied the books. He laughed quietly to himself and leaned over his desk, and put a quill in the bowl of ink. He began writing his will.

There came a soft knock on his door. Thranduil looked up and called "Enter."

Janus, the head cook came in, closing the door behind him. "You have summoned me my Lord?"

"Yes Janus. What I am about to say, I had never thought would ever be whispered in this kingdom. Janus, all about us on the outside of the palace is death. It probes and attacks us relentlessly. I myself am preparing my will. I have given instructions for retreating, and our final stand. These are my orders for you. We are facing our complete and utter destruction. Legolas has escaped and is seeking aide from Rivendell and Lord Elrond. But in the event help comes too late and we are fallen, and all that is left are the elflings," he paused, for it was hard for him to speak it, "I would not have the elflings to face our torment and torture, from which there will be no escape. I need you to prepare a drink for them. One which will spare them our doom and will send them to the Halls of Mandos peacefully, and quickly."

Janus' mouth fell open. "Surely Sire, things are not at such an end?"

Thranduil lowered his head, "I would not ask it, if it were not so." A tear slid down his cheek, but he did not notice it. "I would not have the elflings be chewed upon and endlessly eaten by the spectre that has been described to me living within this fog." He looked up and stared into Janus' eyes.

The horror of the Kings words made the head cook grow pale. "I will do as you ask my Lord. The drink will be quick and painless. I myself will administer it, but only at the desperate end when all has failed."

"I would suggest that you begin administering it after all the Ellons have fallen, the Elleths are certainly defeated, and only the students will remain. When the last Elleth falls, then and only then. Make sure that no elfling will be left for the beast. Then drink yourself."

"I understand my Lord."

"And tell no one, Janus. This is a secret of state, and will surely seperate your head from your shoulders should it leak out to anyone. No one is to know, only you and I. Yet I reserve a small measure of hope for our salvation. Legolas will not give up until he has secured Lord Elronds aide and has returned to save us. And Janus, should we win the day, you are to quickly and quietly destroy your brew so that harm comes to none. Understand?"

"Yes my Lord."

"You are excused." Janus bowed and quickly left to follow his Kings orders.

King Thranduil returned to his will. In it, he stated Legolas' right to be crowned King over the realm and it's survivors. He left instructions for a few things that he would secure in his secret safe, including his will. He knew that should he fall, Legolas would open the safe and would follow his father and king's last will and instructions. He waited for the ink to dry, blowing on it to speed up the process. When the ink dried completely, he folded it neatly. He picked up the sphere of red wax and held it over a burning candle, letting it become soft. He pressed the wax onto the parchment, sealing the flaps closed, and pressed his signet ring into it. He stood up, removed his signet, and picked up the will. He carried them over to the safe. He said the opening words and the door opened effortlessly. He placed the will and his signet ring inside. He withdrew his septer from his waist and placed it inside also. He reached up and removed his crown from his helm and laid it inside also. He removed his necklace with his royal crest from his neck and gently laid it inside the safe also. He eyed his wedding band. He was undecided, turned around and walked to his bookcase. His eyes searched out books containing his and Legolas' geneology and the history of his house. He removed them from the shelf. He reached for books pertaining to the governing of his realm and removed them as well. His eyes scanned the titles of the rest of the books. Ones he felt were great works of his people he removed as well. When he was satisfied, he stacked them neatly to the left inside the safe.

He looked at the contents of the safe. 'The portrait!' He looked around and saw it leaning agaisn't one side of his desk. He walked over and picked it up. He looked longingly at the face of his wife. He missed her. He returned to the safe and squatted down. He gently put the portrait inside, on the right. He stood up and went to his desk.

Thranduil unlocked the middle drawer and withdrew his journal. He began writing quickly of all that had passed since the fog had appeared, including his last conversation with Janus, his head cook. The last he wrote, he wrote for Legolas. He wanted to make sure his son knew of his love for him. He wanted to make sure Legolas knew that should they all perish before help arrived, he was in no way at fault, and forbade his son to blame himself. He also reminded his son on the pages of his last promise to his father, to live, and of his responsibilities to the kingdom and any survivors. He reminded Legolas of his responsibility to produce an heir to the throne. Then he concluded with his heart felt love for Legolas, and his hopes for his son's success and happiness. Thranduil closed the book and added it to the safe's contents. Thranduil spoke the secret words and the safe door closed and sealed itself. Thranduil stood for a moment and sighed. He turned away from the safe and walked out of his office.

He stopped an elf helping to build a barricade and reminded him that his office stood full of fuel, even the door. The elf nodded and went to retrieve all that he could.

Already, his people were gathering in the throne room per his instructions. They looked upon him wide eyed, but kept their silence. Thranduil nodded his head, and walked out of the throne room, inspecting the barricades along the way. He wanted updates, and went towards the entry doors. He could hear the elves pushing agaisn't the doors and the whistle and thuds of burning arrows landing outside the doors. He knew it was only a matter of time.

Author's note: Well it's getting pretty scary on the home front! I have goosebumps...

Review and let me know what you think.


	6. Chapter 9

The Haunting

Chapter Eight

Battle Preperations

by Bethuviel

Disclaimer: I don't own Middle Earth, J.R.R. Tolkien's Estate owns it all. I also do not recieve any compensation for any of my work with the exception of the pure joy of writing.

Author's Note: I would like to personally thank Nelarun and Miriel Silivrenniel who have taken the time to review my work. Their words have given me the encouragement I needed to continue.

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Captain Reilburn ordered the fire barrier around the Omnate to be lit. The soldiers complied. The fire started slowly, then ran around the fuel surrounding the Omnate hungrily. The fire settled into a slow merry burn, it's flames licking skyward. The elves sighed a breath of relief, feeling somewhat safe for the moment.

Captain Reilburn carefully watched the fog. He was glad for the respite, however brief. He did not hold to hope and had forsaken it, but clung to their survival, each moment desperately fought and bought by the skill of their bows. He walked the outer rim of the Omnate, studying the fog.

The fog had settled a few feet back from the burning fire, and seemed as if waiting. A solid wall of white surrounded the Omnate. Even through the fire, Reilburn could smell the water within the fog and worried for a second if the fog could put out the fire. He shook away the thought, recognizing it as ridiculous.

Captain Reilburn stopped. 'It is no more ridiculous than being held here in our own home, hostage and prisoner, to that fog.' With that revelation, Reilburn sneered, swallowed hard and prayed to the Valar that this fog could not put out fire.

Reilburn stood and stared at a section of the fog. To his eyes, it looked as though it was slowly rising, so slow almost imperceptible. He squinted his eyelids together and did not move his head. He waited. After an agonising amount of time had passed, Reilburn surmised that his initial perceptions were correct. The fog was slowly raising itself in height around the Omnate.

He stepped back and climbed back into a window. "Quickly, close and seal the windows." He stood and stared out of the window, feeling helpless. Unconsciously, he backed away from the windows and almost stumbled when he hit the pile of fuel in the center of the room. His mind was racing searching for anything that would help them. His thoughts were distracted by two arguing elves

"You have to tell him."

"He'll never believe me."

Captain Reilburn spun on his heels and demanded, "Tell me what privates?"

A timid silver haired elf stepped forward, "Sir, private first class Humiel. It's just that a few of us were experimenting with a new weapon we designed for when we have to fight those blasted spiders and orcs again."

"And and" urged Reilburn watching the fog rising.

"Sir, we call it napalm. You use a liquid fuel mixed with the whites of eggs in an breakable container with a strip of cloth for a fuse. Light the fuse, throw the container, it shatters and the fuels spreads and burns, but the real surprise is that it sticks to your target and can't be wiped away, it will just smear around still burning. It was deemed too evil of a weapon by some, because of the slow torturous death involved."

"Private Humiel, you're a genius! You may save us all yet, or at the least buy us some precious time. Take two with you to the kitchens or where ever to get the fuel you need and return here." Reilburn spied one of the released prisoners from the vaults who had been carrying up wood to be burned in the barrier. "You, take two with you and gather every vase, pot and bowl you can find and return here with them as quick as you can." Reilburn looked at his dwindling numbers. He sent a runner to the king asking for re-enforcements with all haste, particularly those with knowledge of catapults.

Captain Reilburn paced and watched out each window. His nerves were beginning to grate, and how he wished the elves would hurry. He knew he was being impatient. He walked away from the windows and stood in the center of the room, looking up at the ceiling. He knew there were catapults on the roof of the Omnate and palace. He just wasn't sure where the access doors were located.

Reilburn circled the room slowly, searching every line and crevice of the roof and was completely lost in his pursuit. He did not hear nor see King Thranduil, the personal royal guard laden with all the eggs that could be found, re-enforcements carrying sheets and stripping, elves laden with pots of every sort, and the elves struggling under the weight of vast containers of oil.

"Humum," Thranduil cleared his throat.

"Eeh," Reilburn looked over where the strange noise came from. "Oh, my Lord! Your pardon Sire."

"What are we making Reilburn?" Asked Thranduil, waving his hand at the assorted items.

"I think Humiel said it was called napalm. Sticky fire bombs. I thought it was worth a try my Lord, only I can't figure out how to get up on the roof to the catapults," replied the Captain.

Thranduil stood and looked over the items Reilburn had requested. He got the idea of how to make 'napalm.' Thranduil stepped closer to Reilburn.

"The way is hidden, to protect us from traitors from within. Only a few of us know. It is here Captain Reilburn." Thranduil waved his hand and whispered the secret word and hidden stone stairs lowered from the wall and an door slid back in the ceiling. Thranduil pulled the captains head to him and whispered the secret words into his ear.

"Thank you my Lord," smiled Reilburn grateful for his King's trust in him. "Those who have knowledge of catapults, raise your hands."

Twenty hands went into the air. "Good, go onto the roof and prepare the catapults and slings to fire their ammunition as close to the palace as possible, even if it were possible, to target the palace walls themselves. In this way, we may be able to drive the fog back and away from us." Reilburn stopped. He eyed the fog which had risen to the edge of the top of the fire of the barrier outside the Omnate.

Thranduil looked outside the windows of the Omnate. He saw what his captain was watching. "Captain, see to the Omnate. Use the napalm to drive the fog from here first. We must keep the Omnate secure for as long as we may, for the defense of the palace now depends upon it. Once the fog is driven from here, use the napalm on the palace walls and drive this beast back. Once driven back, use the catapults to shoot into the fog methodically, to drive the spectre within it to one area. Trap it by surrounding it with the fire. Be relentless and merciless. Then we shall drench it with the napalm and see if we can destroy it, or at the very least, wound it so that it cannot attack us any longer."

Captain Reilburn nodded his head, "As you wish my Lord." Reilburn passed the king's wishes onto his elves. The catapults and slings were aimed around the Omnate.

"Now Humiel, teach us to make napalm?" Reilburn asked.

Humiel bobbed his head up and down, "My pleasure my Lords." He bent over an empty pot and inspected it. "The first thing and most import my Lords is to ensure that there **no** water in the pots. Once the pot is clean and dry, pour the fuel inside filling it, like so." Private First Class demonstrated as he went. The elves crowded around him, watching and listening to his every word. "Then we break two eggs, remove the yolks, pour in the whites," he glanced about for a stick and found one on the burnable fuel pile, "stir it a bit to mix the whites throughly through the fuel, add a strip of cloth, soaking it in the fuel and lay it on the side. Next we cover the pot with a cloth soaked in the fuel, cut a slit for the fuse and pull it through, tie the covering on and walla! A napalm bomb. Just light the fuse before you shoot it off." Humiel stood up, grinning from ear to ear, proud of his invention, and that it would be put to good use in the defense of his king and people.

Thranduil was impressed again. This Private First Class had perhaps shown them a deadly weapon to use agaisn't their unsuspecting foe. Excited he bent down and grabbed an empty pot. "Come come, I will help also. Let us form a line, each elf responsible for a different part of the bomb. Let elves form a line to the roof and pass the bombs up." Thranduil looked up and saw a private standing and watching. "You there, go to the throne room and grab some forty or fifty of those idle elves standing and huddling in there. Tell them I require their assistance in the Omnate immediately and bring them with haste. Make them grab pots and other things suitable for bombshells to bring with them. Hurry!" The elf bowed and ran, eager to do his Lord's will.

Thranduil inspected his pot, wiped it out and passed it on to another to fill with fuel. "Humiel, you will lead us through again one time, then will stand and oversee our efforts. Let's form two lines of bomb-making. No, not you Captian Reilburn, you keep an eye on that fog. Tell me, Humiel, will this stuff make that fire outside burn hotter?"

"Yes my Lord, I would think so."

"Good, see to it that the elves above put these first ones on that barrier outside immediately and drive that cursed fog back and buy us some time."

The message was passed up the line to the roof of the Omnate.

"Now let's go through this one bomb with Humiel, then we shall make them ourselves. Humiel, talk us through this first bomb, then supervise us," ordered King Thranduil.

It was as Thranduil ordered. Soon the two lines began producing the napalm bombs, quickly and efficiently. As soon as the bomb was produced, it was passed up to the roof. When the seargent in charge on the roof deemed enough were made, he ordered the fuses lit. The elves held the lit bombs over their heads, waiting for the order to fire. They did not wait long. The seargent gave the order and they dropped them onto the barrier.

The fog was beginning to rise above and curl over the barrier, it's tendrils stretching, reaching for the ground on the other side of the burning barrier.

The bombs shattered on impact with the barrier into a fiery blaze, increasing the temperature hotter, yet slower burning and higher. A low groaning rumble could be heard echoing through out all of Mirkwood. The elves cheered.

The seargent ran to the door on the roof and bent inside exclaiming, "It's working! It's working my Lords! Hear how it groans from the pain of the bombs!" He jumped away from the door and began issuing orders for the next volleys.

The fog snatched it's tendrils away from the new burning weapon of the elves, pulled back a few feet and waited in a solid wall of white.

The private returned with the people Thranduil had requested. Thranduil stood up and a guard took his place that had been watching him carefully. Thraduil looked over the people that had been brought to the Omnate. They were mostly elleths and were setting their bombshells down with great care.

"Hear me now, you who have come. Here you may assist your King and people best, rather than hiding away in the throne room waiting for the worst to come upon us. For all hands are useful, and may contribute to our survival. I would have this half," Thranduil divided the group with a wave of his hand, "To scour out the palace, leaving no room, nook, or closet unsearched and bring all that can be used as bombshells such as you have already brought. These shells must break easily upon impact, whether dropped, thrown or slung through the air. Hurry, for no bombs can made in our defense without your shells." The group turned and ran down the stairs from the Omnate in search of their treasures.

Thranduil turned to the others standing and addressed them, "This group I would have come beside these here on the floor and learn each their part. You must learn quickly, and must produce these bombs in all haste, but accurately. Our very lives depend upon this. Now come and sit beside someone and watch a few times, then make a few under their direction, then you make them yourselves. We have enough people to form three lines of production." He watched them settle in beside another elf.

"You who are left, will form lines to and on the roof. You will pass the finished bombs up and where they need to go, freeing the soldiers to fight. In this way, all of you will contribute to your own survival, and that of your people." Thranduil watched the ones not needed for making the bombs replaced the soldiers in the lines. He himself climbed the stairs and onto the roof.

The seargent ran to greet his king, "My Lord, I have directed that the next three volleys be directed around the Omnate and will upon the third volley decide how many more are needed to secure it." He paused and saw his kings approval. "As you can see my Lord, all the catapults and slings have been ready for the barrage later. I have instructed also that a minimum of twenty bombs be kept at each station so there will be no lull in our attack."

Thranduil looked down the roof of his Omnate and palace. The catapults had been raised from laying upon the roof on their sides to standing upright, fully ready for war. There were four soldiers per station, ten catapults and eight slings. The civilians formed two lines upon the roofs, so there would be no backlogging.

"Very good seargent, very good indeed. Captain Reilburn will be up in a moment. I must go below. Keep up the good work seargent. Remember, stand firm, be merciless and unrelenting. Methodical, drive that beast to a corner and trap it. We may yet kill this thing."

"Yes my Lord, as you have willed, it shall be." The seargent did not bow or salute, not willing to identify his Lord to the enemy as they were in the open.

Thranduil returned below to the Omnate. "Captain Reilburn, leave five at guard at the windows, two for the production lines, and take the others above with you and assume command. Every fifth bomb from each production line I want sent to the inside to the barricades leaving three at each, five at the entry, and the rest to be stockpiled inside the throne room. Twenty are to be kept at all times at each station above. Should we run out of shells before obtaining our objective, make an orderly retreat, seal the doors behind you and burn the inside of the Omnate to give yourselves time. Send a runner ahead of you so that we will know to prepare for your coming. Leave no unused bomb behind. You have my leave to confiscate and use whatever liquid or material you need for the bombs. Remember, merciless and unrelenting to the enemy."

Reilburn gave a curt nod and replied, "Yes my King."

Thranduil spun around and briskly left the Omnate, confident in his elves abilities to carry out his will. He was aware of other preperations needed throughout the palace and was making his way back to the entry doors of his palace. He noticed how empty his palace was looking. He also noticed how it looked alot shabbier. 'We will survive this and rebuild. Survival first, presentable later,' he thought to himself. He passed elves along his way and grabbed one.

"Private, this carpet that we walk upon will burn. There are curtains hanging in those rooms back there that can be used for stripping. Get another to help you. All that burns in a fire can be used. Bring all that you find to the throne room and place it on the seat dias, and once that is full, in front of it neatly." The private nodded and ran to get help.

Thranduil saw the lamps in the rooms he passed. He reached for a seargent who stood looking at a window. "Seargent, get two unneeded men to bring up empty barrels from my cellar. Go to every room and pour the lamp oil into the barrels until there is none left to be had or found. Label the barrels and take them to the Omnate and inform Captain Reilburn, then return to me."

The seargent gathered two of the released prisoners to him and went off in the direction of the cellar. Thranduil stopped dead in his tracks, and yelled at the seargent. "The wine. Bring up all my wine first, take it to the Omnate." The seargent heard his King and called back a "Yes my Lord."

Thranduil walked on and stopped in front of the entry doors. "Seargent Faingin, a moment please."

Seargent Faingin stepped away from his company and stood before his king. "My Lord."

"Seargent, very soon there will be bombs coming to you. They are called napalm. The shells are breakable. They are simple to use. You will see a fuse hanging down the side. Light it and throw it at your target. Do not let anyone stand near where you are throwing it. It is a special concoction that will stick to what it burns and will only smear if you try to wipe it off. It burns hotly too. You are to keep five here and pass on the rest down the hall to the barricades. Only use it at the end of need, after the elves in the Omnate have cleared this point. Have your men build a barricade there." Thranduil pointed at the point of the hall coming from the Omnate that opened into the foyar of the main entry doors.

"When they pass that point, their retreat is full, light your bombs and throw them onto the barricade. Should a retreat be deemed necessary from here, send a runner with five long lenths of rope to Captain Reilburn on the roof of the Omnate. Tell him his main retreat is blocked, to retreat to the roof of the throne room should his need arise."

"I understand my Lord."

"Good. When you have reached your tally of bombs, keep another two, dipp stripping into them and wrap your swords in it. The fire has proven effective agaisn't the enemy. Once this is done, send the rest of the bombs to the next barricade. Should you retreat, leave no unused bomb behind. Bring them and all the stripping you can carry to the next barricade. Understand Seargent Faingin?"

"As you will, my King." Seargent Faingin turned and selected an elf to serve as his runner to the Omnate. "Find five long lengths of rope and return to my side."

King Thranduil left the foyer of the main entry and made his way toward the throne room. He stopped at each barricade and explained the new weapon, how and when to use them. When he was satisfied that each of the guard at the barricades understood, he continued on his way.

At last he walked into his throne room and surveyed his surroundings. Already burnable things from his palace were being brought to the dias. He stopped one elf and reminded him of the personal quarters of the royal family, the dining halls, the libraries with their books and shelves. "Even the doors. Nothing is sacred son, our people depend upon it for their defense." The younger elf gaped at first, then nodded and went on his way.

Thranduil looked up at the ceiling. He pulled three strong looking elves away from the crowd and said to them, "I don't care how you get up there," pointing at the ceiling, "but get up there. I want you to remove five sections of the ceiling, neatly, and place the pieces upon the roof outside. There are soldiers upon the roof who may need to retreat directly into this room. The pieces will be needed to reseal the roof with the exception of two, for smoke holes."

"Yes my Lord, as you will." The three young elves bowed and began to search for a way to get up to the ceiling.

Thranduil found his head cook Janus. "Is the drink prepared?"

Janus hung his head, "Yes my Lord and is stored in that column, locked away so that none but I may retrieve it."

Thranduil nodded his head. "Good. Now I need you to select two of your cooks to gather and take all the gelatin to be found to the Omnate. Make sure it is labeled gelatin and says specifically 'when the eggs run out.' Don't ask, just have it done. Then I need you to take food and water to the soldiers beginning with the roof, the Omnate, and working your way back here. Then feed the elflings, the sick, then everyone else. Organize it how you best see fit, but you are to remain here, close to that column. You are not to leave this room, do you understand Janus?" Janus nodded firmly.

Thranduil looked at his personal guards. "I do not need you to follow my every step, but perform a more useful deed. This way if you would please." Thranduil showed them various places in the throne room he wanted barricades built, as a last defense. "You know the basic mixture of the bombs we are making?" They nodded that they did. "Good, but don't make bombs. Gather empty barrels, put kerosene in them, and get Janus to have one of his cooks to bring you some thick sticky substance to mix in it. Once you have done this, pour it onto the barricades." He walked over to the side of the dias, "Place on either side of the dias, burning barrels and torches to light the fires with. Once you have prepared the barricades, fill two barrels of the mixture between each barricade on either end. Those we will dump directly on the floor and light. If you run out of kerosene, use cooking oil, or any other type of flammable liquid. Dedicate two elves to escort small groups for 'potty breaks,' beginning with the elflings, the sick if they can walk, elleths and then all others. The soldiers can take care of their own relieving. Any questions? Good. Make haste. I will be in.."

King Thranduil was interuppted by an elf running up, "My Lord! My Lord!"

"Peace! Calm yourself!" Demanded Thranduil.

The elf nodded and spoke in a lower tone, "My Lord, the palace walls are burning!"

Thranduil looked at his windows and saw the reason for the elf's excitement. He spoke in a loud voice, filling the room so that all could hear, "Do not panic. This has been arranged. The fire hurts our enemy and drives it back. It is a planned defence of the palace. Our counter attack has begun. Please remain calm and in your assigned stations." He could see the relief on his people's faces. They were packed tightly in the rear of Thranduil's throne room. The dias had even been moved foward to make room for the people. He looked up and saw more of his people standing behind archers on the balcony encircling the room.

Thranduil left the seargent of his royal guard in charge telling him, "I must leave for a short while and look to our soldiers. Get stripping to those archers and tell them to light every arrow fired. And have someone wrap every sword with the stripping soaked in that stuff and lit only when we are battling the fog and spectre. I will be back."

The seargent nodded and continued to direct the men of the royal guard.

Thranduil left the throne room and hurried to the roof of the Omnate, stopping only briefly at the foyer to retrieve the lengths of rope from Seargent Faingin's runner. Thranduil just had a wierd feeling and wanted the ropes taken up now, and since he was on his way, he decided to take them himself. As he passed various elfs he gave words of encouragement and told them to stand firm. When he was on the stairs leading up to the Omnate, Thranduil paused and said a brief prayer to Elberieth. He continued up the stairs and told himself 'All that we can do, we have done.' He heard the catapults and slings being fired overhead, 'And thus it begins.'

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Author's Note: I have to do a better job of remembering to breath! I've worn out the edge of my chair and it's making this loud squeeking sound now.

So tell me what do you think? Send reviews, please, I live for them. They're candy or should I say chocolate and I love chocolate...


	7. Chapter 10

**The Haunting**

by Bethuviel

A Horror Revealed

**Chapter Ten**

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own Middle Earth (darn it!) J.R.R. Tolkien's Estate owns it. I also do not recieve any compensation for my work other than the pure joy of writing.

Author's note: It's been a few days since I updated and I apologise. I had to get out of the batcave.

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Legolas almost ran to reach Lord Elrond, such was the need of haste he felt. He did not bother with proper pleasantries, only took Elrond by the arm and pulled him along inside of the Last Homely House. Only when they were standing inside of Elrond's private office did Legolas release him.

Elrond the Peredhil suffered himself to be pulled along by the young Mirkwood prince. He felt reasonably sure that Legolas had a good reason for treating him this way and in his own home at that. He patiently followed Legolas into his office and shut the door behind them.

"Somewhat met, Legolas. Tell me what is going on for you to behave so."

"Forgive me Lord Elrond." Legolas rushed. "My father, our people and kingdom are under attack and are in mortal peril. Adar sneaked me and Captain Uraile out from the palace and sent us to you for aide, lest all is lost and perish to an eternity of torture and torment. Please, Elrond, you must help us!"

Elrond was shocked. He raised his infamous eyebrows slightly and his mouth opened to a small gape. Legolas was staring at him with pleading eyes.

"Legolas, I want you to wait for a moment, I will summon Lord Glorfindel to this meeting also. Then begin your tale from the beginning for both of us."

Legolas nodded his head, and Elrond rang a bell. A few seconds later a servent poked a head through Elrond's door. "Please ask Glorfindel to meet me here immediately, that it is most urgent. And then please bring refreshments." The dark haired head disappeared and Elrond motioned for Legolas to sit in a high backed thickly cushioned leather chair. Elrond watched Legolas fidget in the chair and thought to himself, 'The peril must be great indeed for Thranduil to secret his only son and heir away, and upon their throats for only one personal guard...'

Glorfindel burst into Elrond's office, his eyes questioning. "Lord Glorfindel," said Elrond,"Legolas is here as an emissary from his father, King Thranduil. I did not want the story to be told more than once so I asked for your presence, as it sounds as though we are going to war to aide the Woodland Elves."

Glorfindel gasped and sat across from Legolas, staring at him intently, waiting for the news.

Elrond sat down behind his desk and said, "Tell us Legolas, what troubles King Thranduil's kingdom, that he sends his son for aide?"

"I know not what it is or what it is called. We were woke up two mornings ago by elves screaming. When we surveyed our land, it was besot with a thick white fog that could not be pierced by sight. All but two who have ventured into this fog have perished screaming in agony. Of the two who have survived, both are teetering on madness, one's hair is as an old mans, and both shriek of an entity they call _death_ that rides a pale horse and is coming for us all. The white haired one said the entity has a gaping maw and chews upon the elves it has already taken without ceasing with endless rows of razor sharp teeth. Arrows and swords are no use and even as we speak, my people's time shortens, if indeed there are any left to save including my Adar."

Glorfindel jumped up and went over to one of many bookcases. He paused, pulled out a book, flipped through it and walked over to Legolas. He showed him a picture and asked, "Is this what they describe Legolas?"

Legolas could not believe his eyes. He swallowed hard, and griped the arms of the chair. On the page was the most horrid of creations he had ever seen.

The pages of the book were yellowed, but the image could still be clearly seen. Legolas released his grip on the arms of the chair and took the book from Glorfindel. He was careful to not touch the image, and held the book by the edges. Elrond came and stood beside Legolas, looking at the image also.

The page showed a humanoid figure with elongated limbs, it's skin thin, stretched and leathery. In places, the skin did not appear, but faces distorted in sheer agony peered out. The face was what held Legolas' and Elrond's attention. It was almost as if no skin existed it was so stretched. The head was skeletal, with no eyes but only darkened holes. The nose was partial, and the nasal passage entries had no covering, but only bone openings. But the mouth was of particular interest to the elves. It was open beyond belief, it's chin reaching to almost where the waist would be, and the skin of jaws were not completely formed, but looked like jailers bars. Inside the gaping maw were innumerable rows of teeth with a blacken sliver of a tongue with it's end split into several tips a few which held hapless victims. The creature was clothed in a ratty torn whispy white gown that floated around it. The spectre sat on air a few inches above a pale thin horse that looked dead itself.

Legolas shoved the book back into Glorfindel's hands and shot up out of the chair. He snarled, "Yes, that is what they have described! It is ghastly, an adbomination! And it murders my people even as we speak here in safety!" He turned away and fingered the handles of his daggers. He was angry and his hard breathing told the fact. "What is that cursed thing?"

Elrond and Glorfindel looked at each other, dread clearly upon their own faces. Elrond answered, "It is an evil of old. We are not sure whence it came, only that it exists, and allies itself with Morgorth." Elrond looked down at the floor and held his peace, letting his words seep into Legolas' mind. "A doom of elves has awakened..."

Glorfindel walked over to Legolas and put his hand on the young prince's shoulder. He stood silently lending his strength of presence to his friend.

Elrond looked up and studied their outlines in the window for a moment, then said, "Do not fear Legolas, it can be defeated, but it will be a hard trial for the elves, and many may perish in the oncoming battle. I will send word by the fastest means possible to Lothlorien, and to Gandalph. We will need all our strength now."

Legolas turned and faced Elrond. "As a father you have been to me," he said, "and I submit to your wisdom and authority concerning this thing." He bowed low to Elrond.

Elrond, feeling the love he possessed for Legolas, pulled him up and into his arms in an embrace. "Keep hope Legolas. For yet there is a glimmer of it before my eyes and mind." Elrond released him and stepped back, looking deep into Legolas' gray eyes, "We will leave as soon as my army is gathered and the messages sent. I will leave a remnant for the defense of Rivendell." Elrond cocked his head to the left and said, "Rest for now Legolas, for you have ridden far and fast and yet our ride is not over, and the war of the elves lays before us. Rest and gather what strength you can." With that Elrond left his office and went to call upon his seargent at arms.

Glorfindel led Legolas over to the couch and gently pushed Legolas down onto it. "Rest here, Legolas for we will be leaving within the hour, certainly no more than two."

Legolas' eyes glazed over and he went into the dreams of his mind, resting his body. Glorfindel smiled, and left Elrond's office.

Glorfindel wrestled with his racing thoughts. He had heard of this evil before, long long ago before his fall at Gondolin. It had only been whispered, and never spoken of openly. When the Valar had imprisoned Morgorth to the void, 'it' had disappeared. It had been assumed by all that 'it' had been destroyed and now 'it' had returned. He found Elrond surrounded by elves issuing instructions. He waited until the Lord of Rivendell was finished. At last Elrond turned, saw him and removed himself from the masses.

" Lord Glorfindel, we need to talk."

"Yes, Lord Elrond I am aware."

They stepped away from ears and into the garden. "How can this be? It has returned!" Began Elrond. "Have you any knowledge of this thing and what is it called...the name escapes me..." Elrond was tapping the side of his head on his temple with a forefinger.

Glorfindel watched Elrond tapping and pacing. "Elrond, you will wear a path in your stones if you keep that up. I remember not the name, but when I heard Legolas describing their ordeal, I knew immediately what it was. It is a deadly adversary."

Elrond stopped pacing and inspected his cobblestone. 'I see no path,' he thought then aloud, "Oh no doubt of that, most deadly. And for Thranduil to scurry his son out in secret with only one guard, he must truley fear his people and kingdom are at an end."

"Legolas has always been true of heart and a strong warrior, but I noted the fear in his eyes when telling his tale, and upon seeing the picture of it from the book," added Glorfindel.

Elrond nodded, "Yes I saw it too. And fear of losing his Adar. He and Thranduil share a strong bond of love between them. I do not think Legolas or Thranduil would long survive but succomb to grief should one of them ever die."

"How about we just call it the Spectre of Death, for that is how it has identified itself to others. The name is lost with the passing of time and that book does not give it a name, only that it is a doom on elves from Morgorth himself." Glorfindel whispered the name of the evil one, not willing to speak it aloud.

Elrond waved his hand in the air, "The name does not matter, Spectre of Death, Doom of Elves. What does matter is we must find a way to destroy it once and for all else it detroys us."

Glorfindel's face fell, "You mean you do not know Lord Elrond?"

"Know what?"

"How to destroy this thing."

"I have a good idea, but no, not for sure. Legolas said it surrounded itself in a white fog."

"What of it?" Asked Glorfindel.

Elrond squinted his eyes and looked at Glorfindel, searching his face. "Meaning that it shelters itself, but from what? There is something it does not like, something that will hurt it that this Spetre of Death cloaks itself in this fog."

"Fog will hide the sun, and the darkness of night!" Exclaimed Glorfindel.

"So then it has two enemies, light and dark." Elrond stood as still as a statue deep in thought. "I know how we will kill it. It will take us all to achieve it. Come Glorfindel, the army of Rivendell has assembled and awaits us. I have left Erstor in charge in our joined absence, our armor waits for us in the Hall of Fire. If you will awaken Legolas, I will wait for you there. Then we shall ride!"

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Author's Note: Reviews. I love them. So dangle a few carrots in front of my nose folks!


	8. Chapter 11

**The Haunting**

by Bethuviel

Fire in the Sky

**Chapter Eleven**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Middle Earth, J.R.R. Tolkien's Estate owns it. I also do not recieve any compensation for my work except the pure joy of writing.

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On the stairs leading up to the Omnate, Thranduil paused and said a brief prayer to Elberieth. He continued up the stairs and told himself, 'All that we can do, we have done.' He heard the catapults and slings being fired overhead and said, "Thus it begins."

He stepped onto the palace roof and surveyed the scene before him.

"Drive it back, drive it back!" Shouted Captain Uraile. "Drive that cursed fog back away from the palace! To left Elves! To the Left! Drive it to the left and back!"

Thranduil watched the firebombs fly through the air and crash and explode into blue flame methodically at the fog. Uraile noticed Thranduil standing beside him.

"Oh sire, see how we assault our enemy? And see the slings? We created fire balls! Fuel for the firebombs to burn. No mercy!" Uraile ran down the line of catapults shouting as he went, "No Mercy! No Mercy!"

The bombs made a high pitch whistle as they flew through the air. When they hit, explosions shook the ground, and the tremors could be felt running up the palace walls. Thranduil felt confused. "Impact tremors from simple fire bombs?" He asked no one in particular.

Uraile ran back to the King, "I have ordered our banners be unfurled so that this beast will have our house emblems imprinted on it's mind as we kill it. See how we drive it sire?"

"Yes I see! Amazing! Why does the ground shake?"

"An accident we discovered. Some nitrate got mixed in with one of the bombs and it increased it's destructive power ten fold." He laughed like an elfling. "I ordered it to be added to every bomb we produce." He laughed some more and wrung his hands with glee. Uraile looked out on the battlefield and straightened up immediately. "Excuse me sire," and he rushed off again. This time Thranduil followed him.

"See how the fog tries to regroup there? Blast that area and drive it back to the left corner." Uraile ordered an elf.

Thranduil watched the fog retreat back from the fire and explosions. He noted that it grew higher in height as it retreated. "Uraile!" He shouted above the din. "Uraile, have the elves cut some of the fuses so that bombs will explode in the air above the fog. And have some of the catapultist to fire behind the fog to hem it in, so there is no escape."

"Yes my Lord. Good thinking!" Uraile rushed off and gave the instructions himself.

The sky above the palace grounds was constantly dotted with the fire bombs whistling through it. Explosions started above the ground and over the fog. The fiery liquid would shower down into the fog and other bombs exploded and burned around it. The assualt of the elves was relentless. An unearthly scream could be heard issuing from inside the fog. It grew in pitch and loudness until it was so loud it echoed.

The elves clawed at their helms, throwing them down at their feet. They covered their ears with the palm's of their hands, jerking their heads back and forth in pain. Within a few minutes they were on their knees, crouching as blood seeped from under their hands and trickled down jawlines.

Thranduil was not immune. He was laying on his side, holding his ears as well. He could see out from the roof and he looked at the fog. Thranduil watched as it grew denser. He rolled over and got onto his knees. He pulled what strength he still possessed from his inner self and stood up. Thranduil dropped his arms to his side, bent backwards and yelled with all his might, venting his frustration. He stumbled over to a group of elves and managed to pull them onto their feet. Between the four of them, they got off a shot. It glided through the air towards the fog.

The elves watched as a ball of white sprung out from the fog. It sped towards the bomb their king had fired. The white ball enveloped the bomb and both disappeared from the air as if they had never existed.

The elves slowly stood to their feet, not understanding what they had witnessed. They ripped strips from their undershirts and stuffed them into their ears.

"Man your posts, and make ready to fire!" Commanded the King of Mirkwood. His elves quickly obeyed.

"Fire!" Shouted the king.

The firebombs were released and were met mid air by white balls that absorbed them and disappeared. Slowly the fog wall advanced and released more of it's white balls. A few landed on guards and covered them. They screamed and to the horror of their comrades, the covered elves slowly disintegrated before their eyes.

"Retreat! Retreat!" Shouted Thranduil. He shoved Uraile towards the Omnate, "Take those with you and retreat!"

Thranduil ran to the roof of the throne room, "To me elves! Retreat Here!" He dropped the lines through the roof and secured the other ends to catapult legs. He reached out and started grabbing elves, shoving the ropes into their hands and pushing them down the holes in the roof. "Down you go!" He kept motioning at the elves with his hands and watching the fog advancing. "Hurry! Hurry!" He shouted to them. "Quick as you can!"

Thranduil watched Uraile's head disappear into the Omnate. He knew without question that his Captain would set the Omnate afire as he had been ordered to do in the event of a retreat. He hoped that in their haste to flee, they did not forget the bombs. When there were only he and four others, he stopped them.

"Light the remaining bombs and roll them off of the roof. See how close the fog has advanced, almost on the walls again." He and the remaining elves ran, lighting the bombs as they went, rolling them off of the roof and letting them crash where they would. When they had finished, they met back at the ropes.

"Seal every opening before dropping down. We cannot let it get inside," ordered Thranduil. They dropped just inside the roof and pulled the stones back into place, sealing the roof of the palace, before sliding down the rest of the way.

Thranduil landed first and spun around. "Get those people back!" he shouted to his guards. He made a signal to his archers to watch the roof, windows and doors. He finally faced his soldiers and guards, "Here we will make our final stand! We must hold until help arrives!"

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Reviews are welcome and encouraged!


	9. Chapter 12

**The Haunting**

by Bethuviel

Chapter Twelve

**The Noose Tightens**

**Disclaimer:** Still don't own Middle Earth and still don't get paid for it.

Author's Note: In the previous chapter, it is Captain Reilburn on the roof with Thranduil and Captain Uraile is with Legolas. Sorry for the mistake.

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Lord Elrond, Lord Glorfindel and Prince Legolas sat mounted at the front of the army of Imladris. The mithril armor shined black and silver in the afternoon sun, and the banners of Lord Elrond glinted, waving proudly in the wind. Lord Elrond raised his hand and dropped it. Horns blew loudly, echoing through the gentle hills and over the lands about them.

The procession started slowly, gathering speed until the entire ensemble was riding hard at a full gallop to the aide of the Woodland Elves and King Thranduil. Lord Elrond would spare neither beast nor elf in his race to stop the genocide in the north. He had commanded that each in the army be given a flask of _miruvor_, the cordial of Imaladris.

Miruvor was a fragrant and warm liquior, that lent strength and vigor to those who drank it. Lord Elrond had ordered that it be taken by the capful by every elf and three capfuls by the horses at each brief break.

Elrond leaned forward on the neck of his horse and rode faster, his army following his example. He was figuring his current speed, terrain of the path before him and breaks for the horses. He knew that without the miruvor, the horses could not long bear them under such speeds and duress. If all went perfect, it would take them a little over twelve hours. But Elrond knew better than to expect absolute perfection, so he expected to be on Thraduils palace grounds in fourteen to sixteen hours. 'Sixteen hours,' thought Elrond, '136 leagues, give or take, in sixteen hours. Indeed!"

He looked to his left and spied two riders, hell bent for leather, coming straight at him. He smiled. He knew it was Elrohir and Elladan. They had heard the horns blowing and had made haste to their Adar. Elrond was expecting them and had carried extra flasks for them. They joined their father and rode beside him.

Elrohir and Elladan had been on one of their many trips destroying orcs, when they had heard the elven horn blows. The twin brothers had immediately rode to join their kith and kin. They did not ask questions of their father, but rode beside him, confident that answers would come later.

Less than two hours later, Elrond called for a brief halt at the foot of the Misty Mountains. Every elf followed the orders of Elrond and took of the miruvor, then gave it to their horses.

Elrond removed the flasks he carried for his sons and put them into their hands, "One capful for yourselves and three for your horse at each break lest we all perish before we even get there."

"Ada, where are we going?" Asked Elladan.

"And why to war?" Elrohir inquired.

Elrond watched Legolas patting his horse down, then looked at his personal guard, Captain Uraile, and answered his sons, "King Thranduil and his people are under attack from an entity called 'Death' and will be soon overcome. He sent his son by secrecy to ask our help. Thranduil and his people will die if we do not reach them in time." Elrond watched the faces of his sons. Their initial shock of the news was quickly replaced by hard steely faces. "I have sent for Mithrandir and also for aide from Lothlorien. They should join us on or near the Old Forest Road of Mirkwood. Prince Legolas has given authority to me to lead." Elrond looked up at the sun and put his own flask away. "Glorfindel is acting as my general. The two of you will follow him and Legolas will ride at my side as it is his land and people we ride to aide."

"Lord Glorfindel," called Elrond, "mount them up and let's be on our way. And do not sound the horns again until we get there, as we are a big enough of a spectacle for spies of Sauron as it is, without announcing it."

Elrond motioned to Legolas and he rode over. He saw that Uraile was never more than ten paces from Legolas' side and had followed him, "I would have you ride next to me Crown Prince Legolas."

"Yes my Lord," answered Legolas. The weight of worry burrowed on his brow, but he held his peace. His grey eyes were stormy and his squint made them look angrier.

Lord Elrond smiled at Legolas. "Do not worry, Legolas. The full wrath and fury of the Elven Lords is not to be scoffed at, nor taken lightly. And see," Elrond twisted around and pointed with his hand behind himself, "I have also brought my armies. And the Lady Galadrial and Lord Celeborn and their armies will join us later as well as Mithrandir. We are a formidable force for this Spectre that hides away in it's fogbank. So stop your fretting and help me lead this great gathering of elves to victory." He paused for a moment and hissed behind clinched teeth, "It will be that entity's death, not ours, and we shall drink your father's wine in celebration of that fact! Now ride!" He raised his hand and dropped it and sped forward on the path of the pass that would lead him and his army over the Misty Mountains.

"Aye!" growled Legolas and rode after him.

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Captain Reilburn ran down the steps from the roof and into the Omnate. "Gather your things and Retreat!" He shouted. Reilburn stood at the bottom of the steps and barely whispered the secret words, sealing the roof, and causing the stairs to disappear into the wall.

Elves grabbed their bomb making supplies and ran out. Reilburn called to a few privates, "Spread that burn pile out and pour some of our new weapon on it and light it! Minus the nitrate." Captain Reilburn helped to spread the pile out, grabbed an unfinished bomb and poured it out over his section. "Now get out!" He took a lit torch from the retreating private, stood on the top stair and flung it inside the Omnate. He pulled the door closed and whispered the secret words again, sealing it shut. Reilburn ran down the stairs and caught up with the other elves that had left before him.

"Quickly, move! Move! Run!" He shouted about the clatter. The line of elves rushed on ahead of him until he stood at the first barricade. He felt the hairs on his neck stand up and knew 'it' was coming. Reilburn turned and grabbed a firebomb. He lit it, threw it down the hallway before him and brought the center of the barricade down. He lit the barricade as well.

Captain Reilburn turned and shouted "Seargent Faingin! Make your retreat! Now!" They could hear the bomb Reilburn threw down the hall explode and heard the screaming of the entity.

The entry doors thumped as if struck by a mighty force and dust from the stone scattered to the floor. Boom! The metal enforcements on the heavy doors creaked. Boom! The doors held, but for how much longer, Captain Reilburn and Seargent Faingin could not guess.

"Light it now Faingin! Retreat! Retreat!" Shouted Captain Reilburn, jarring the elves out of their stupor.

Faingin did as ordered. He dropped the center of the barricade of the front doors and lit it. He fell back behind Reilburn as they retreated to the next barricade.

"Light it!" Ordered Faingin to the guard at the barricade. Faingin lit a bomb he was carrying and tossed it back down the hallway from where he had come. The guard dropped the center and lit his barricade just as the tossed bomb exploded.

The guard picked up his two bombs and ran after his seargent. Faingin turned and saw the guard. He stopped and took one of the bombs. "Light them and toss them away when we get to the next barricade!" He ordered. They ran on to the next barricade and waited. They could hear the front doors giving way with a shudder that reverberated along the palace floors.

A great and evil shrieking could be heard coming from the foyar of the entry. It was answered by one from the direction of the Omnate.

Reilburn lost all his color at once and proclaimed, "By the Illuvator, there's two of them!"

A shriek was heard from the roof. Faingin grabbed onto Reilburn for support, pointed up and said, "Make that three."

Reilburn mumbled, "Valar save us..."

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The pass over the Misty Mountains was proving to take a little longer for the army of Imladris to cross than Elrond had antiscipated and he was growing impatient.

Legolas saw his lord's face, understood, and said, "Going down is faster."

Elrond shot him a look of disapproval that would have melted the ice caps of Caradhras in deep winter. Such was the withering glare that Captain Uraile watched Elrond closely, not completely sure if the Elven Lord would attack his Prince and was himself ready to pounce if the occasion rose.

The sun was setting and at last the company began their downward decent, picking up speed the closer to the bottom they came. Once the army had cleared the pass, Elrond called for another rest. Each sipped of the miruvor and took care of their horses.

Elrond whispered to Legolas, "Tell me, where does this fog lay on your lands?"

Legolas answered, "Only on the palace grounds."

"Then how did you escape?"

"Father put me and Captain Uraile in an empty wine barrel and put us onto the river. The river access is directly over the water. And the fog is not there either."

Elrond shook his head and remounted his horse. Glorfindel called for the army to remount and soon they were riding again. Elrond did not slacken the pace, but rode as fast as the horse would give him. He knew that they had just begun the longest part of the journey, and here it was that the meeting of the armies and Mithrandir was to take place. He also felt that Thranduil's time grew short. He could feel it in every cell of his being. But more so, Elrond could feel in his heart and mind the distress of Thranduil and his people.

But even with the urgency of Thranduil and his people crawling through Elrond's nervous system, he reluctantly pulled back on his horse. He would outrace Celeborn and Galadriel at his current pace. And the two powerful elves were intregal to his plan. Not to mention Mithrandir. It would do no good to arrive ahead of them, just to die with Thranduil and his people.

Elrond did not stop but rode straight to the Old Ford. He paced his horse and army, based on when he believed the others would arrive. One of his scouts rode up and delivered a message to Glorfindel who in turn rode up to Elrond's side.

"The armies of the Lothlorien have been sighted and should meet us at the Old Ford within the hour." Elrond thanked him and pressed on to the goal.

The Old Ford was coming into plain sight when Elrond saw Gwaihir, the great eagle circling above them. On his back sat a grey cloaked Mithrandir. Elrond smiled and pointed the sight out to Legolas.

Legolas gave the first genuine smile he had in days. Hope sprang to life in his heart and he felt renewed. His grey eyes twinkled and he laughed for joy.

Elrond watched Legolas and was gladdened. He hoped it was not in vain.

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Thranduil heard the soldiers retreating towards the throne room. He withdrew his sword and watched the roof. He had heard an evil careening coming from there.

"Sire!"

Thranduil turned and saw Janus his head cook standing beside him. "Sire, one of the Elleths has said there is a cavern that runs underneath this room, that were we to break through, perhaps the elflings could be taken to safety."

Thranduil looked at the floor and replied with grief thick in his voice, "This is a cavern beneath us, but it is full of lava. It is how we heat the palace. There is no escape from this place Janus."

Janus hung his head, and walked away, his hopes dashed.

The clatter of elves running into the throne room grabbed Thranduil's attention and he rushed over.

Captain Reilburn ran inside the doors of the throne room, spun around and tossed a lit bomb back out. He ran further in as other soldiers were tossing lit bombs into the hall way.

"They're right on us Sire! Seal the Doors!" Reilburn shouted.

Thranduil shouted, "To arms! To arms!" Thranduil shouted to the guards at the doors, "Drop the barricade! Light it Now!"

He stepped back and ordered, "Fall back to me, to me!"

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Author's note: Whew! Reviews Please!


	10. Chapter 13

**The Haunting**

by Bethuviel

**The Crux**

Chapter Thirteen

**Disclaimer: **I don't own it, I don't get paid.

Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews, please keep them coming!

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Elrond called for another halt just as the last of his army passed over the Old Ford. He watched as Gwaihir landed in a clearing and Mithrandir slid off. The eagle followed Mithrandir to where Elrond stood. They made their greetings and exchanged a few pleasantries.

From under his bushy brows, Mithrandir eyed Legolas. The Istari had known the prince since his birth and knew the destiny that awaited him. "Fear not Legolas, all will be well," he said and clapped Legolas on the shoulder. "Aw, Galadriel and Celeborn are arriving!"

They watched as the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood rode up and dismounted. "We have ridden with all haste, and the night is not yet spent. Tell us Elrond, is it as horrific as has been reported?"

Galadriel spoke, "Our northern kin yet live, but are in dire peril."

Legolas looked at Galadriel, pleading silently for assurance of his father's life. Galadriel only looked at him impassive, and gave no reply.

Mithrandir spoke up, "This evil that besets the Woodland Elves is old. A spawn of Morgoth before the Valar imprisoned him. I suppose we should be grateful he only created three. He gave them great power of himself, and just before he, Morgoth was captured by the Valar, he put them into a deep sleep, hybernation, I suppose to wait for his return. The vile creatures existance was known, but their where-abouts hidden deep within Arda and could not be discovered. And Morgoth would not reveal their hiding place, even as he was held on the edge of the void that now imprisons him. It was thought, and hoped, the vile creatures would never awaken without their masters call." He fell silent and his eyes slightly glazed, returning to distant memories.

Mithrandir's words were slowly absorbed by the surrounding elves.

Legolas dissected the information in his mind. 'A spawn of Morgoth!

Given powers from the evil one, a Valar. But why did they wake? How old is Mithrandir?" Legolas asked aloud, "How do we destroy them and save my people?"

Mithrandir jerked his head towards Legolas. "There's the crux of it all. For into these creatures, he poured his absolute hatred and malice for the Firstborn." His eyes darted back and forth to the elves standing around him. "You must look inside of yourselves, for there is the power that will defeat them. But it will require all of you, for they are pure evil, and more powerful than any one of us, or a few of us, or many of us. This will require each and every one of us gathered here, from the mightest to the meekest, else we shall fail, to the doom of all."

Elrond looked wierdly satisfied. It was as he thought and his plan would indeed work.

"Galadriel, show the elves what they need to do to perform this task," said Elrond.

She nodded and held onto Celeborn for support, for a deed of this magnitude would temporarily weaken her. She closed her eyes and put her ring to her chest. Galadriel drew the added strength she needed from adamant, and sent a mental picture to the elves surrounding her of what was needed when called upon to destroy the evil entities attacking the northern kingdom. When she finished, she partially collapsed and Celeborn held her up. Elrond administered miruvor to her and she immediately began to recover. He gave her another sup from the flask and she straightened and stood on her own. She smiled her thanks to her son-in-law and he stepped away.

Elrond mounted his horse, a sign to all that they were leaving. Elrond took off at full gallop, remembering Galadriel's words of peril. He knew time was short and could be patient no longer. The combined armies of Imladris and Lothlorien followed their leaders, ready to face the deadly foes ahead of them.

Galadriel, Celeborn, Legolas, Glorfindel, Elrohir and Elladan followed Elrond, while Mithrandir flew above on Gwaihir. Without warning, Elrond left the road and headed directly into Mirkwood Forest. He did not slow but kept pressing foward in the most direct route. He clenched his teeth, and held onto the mane of his horse.

The others were shocked but followed Elrond's lead. Galadriel and Mithrandir knew why the sudden change in course. Time was of the essence, and the lives of Thranduil and his people depended on every second that the riders could save.

The trees sensed the urgency of the armies and the peril of the wood elves and so they lifted their branches up and away and pulled their roots below the ground, allowing the horses and elves to pass unhindered. The ground thundered under the hooves of the horses and sounded like a mighty storm gathering to the inhabitants of Laketown many leagues away.

An hour passed, then two and still Elrond pushed ever forward. He became aware of his horse's labored breathing and reluctantly slowed to a jog. He slid off of his horse, but did not stop. He ran beside, holding onto the mane with one hand and drank from his flask with the other. He ran in front of his horse and poured miruvor into his hand and gave it to the horse. He repeated this procedure until he was sure the horse had recovered. He looked behind him and saw that the others followed his example. He skirted around and remounted the horse, never losing pace. He resumed the full gallop and did not stop.

The forest was already dark, but then a few clouds passed over the moon and there was no light at all. But still the elves did not faulter. Ever forward they rode with a grim determination never witnessed before in Arda.

Another hour passed quickly as the forest rushed by. Elrond silently did the math in his head, taking into consideration the approximate speed his horse ran, and came to the conclusion that he had almost another twenty-two leagues before he stood on the palace grounds of Thranduil. 'Hold on, my old friend, we are coming,' he thought, 'We are coming!'

The Old Forest River appeared before him and still he did not slow but urged his horse onward. The horse ran straight into the river and only had to swim a few feet in the center, quickly finding the soft bottom again. The armies followed their leader without pause and soon all had crossed without incident.

Elrond did not wait for the others, but pushed ahead relentlessly, and the other elves began to understand the sincere graveness of the situation. Pulses began to quicken, and muscles to flex with adrenaline surges. Resolves were hardened with every league gained, and the elves rode still ever closer to their destination.

The moon was lowering in the sky above them and dawn was ready to break anew as the riders broke through the edge of Mirkwood Forest and looked upon the grounds of the palace of King Thranduil.

Elrond halted and explored the landscape before him. He signaled for the other leaders to come to his side. Legolas' mouth fell open in shock. Celeborn, Galadriel and Glorfindel's eyes grew wide in disbelief.

Gwaihir landed beside them long enough for Mithrandir to get off of his back and immediately took to flight. Mithrandir studied the scene before him, but said nothing.

The fog was gone. The normally deep lush green of the grass had been replaced with a burned and charred wasteland. The walls that had secured the palatial grounds lay in broken heaps, and the gates hung crooked, busted on their hinges. The plants and vegetation were withered twigs, and dotting the grounds were deep blackend pits.

The cobblestone walkways were ripped up, bown apart and lay jagged. Piles of dust rested where benches, statues, and busts formerly existed.

Legolas looked at his home and could feel his eyes stinging. The pristine walls were no more, but ragged, pitted and blackened. The entry doors lay shredded in bits and pieces. "Ada..." he whispered as he drew his sword.

Through clenched teeth Elrond told Glorfindel to have the armies to surround the palace, sending two companies with him. "We will quietly get into position, and quickly. When the signal is given, have every horn we own blowing without ceasing to hearten any survivors inside and to distract the enemy. Galadriel will give the signal for the attack."

"Yes my Lord," replied Glorfindel.

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Author's note: Help has finally arrived! Poor Legolas...

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	11. Chapter 14

**The Haunting**

by Bethuviel

Chapter Fourteen

**Under Siege**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Middle Earth, and I don't get paid.

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Elrond, Celeborn, Galadriel, Gandalph, the twins and Legolas silently crept to the palace as the armies of Imladris and Lothlorien surrounded it under the command of Glorfindel.

Elrond paused at what was left of the entry doors, ducked beneath the smoke that was pouring out through them and peered inside. He pulled his head back out quickly and took a few seconds to process the information his eyes had sent to his brain.

Elrond had visited the halls of Thranduil on many occasions and he felt sickened to his stomache, but more so for the people of the northern kingdom. The thick lush carpets of the floors and the heavy tapestries that hung from the walls were gone. The furniture and other furnishings were gone. There were holes in the walls where it looked as if the lamps had been ripped away. Replacing the splendor of Thranduil's halls were blackened charred walls and floors, with scattered pits gouged into them. Every few feet lay thick mounds of smoking debri.

Elrond motioned for the others to follow him and edged inside, drawing his sword. He could hear the screams of elves coming from the direction of the throne room and quickened his pace.

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Thraduil had wrapped his sword in cloth stripping soaked with lamp oil and stood watching the heavy oak doors to his throne room groan from pressure put upon them from the outside. His soldiers and guard stood at the ready beside him and in front of him. To the right and left on the far ends of the room, stood elves with lit torches, ready to dump barrels of wine at his command. Thranduil could hear the wimperings of the frightened elflings from the far back of the throne room and his heart ached for them. He thought of the older elflings, not children but not yet adults who would never know the passion of their first kiss or the first tingling embrace of their soulmate. His mind shifted gears and he thought of his son Legolas. He saw the pictures of memories fly through his mind from the day of Legolas' conception to the day he had to send his son down the river. He smiled when he remembered the look on Legolas' face after the final joke he had played on him. He hoped that that would be the way Legolas would remember him, playful and loving.

"So many things I wanted to tell him, things I wanted to do and share with him and now there is no more time," he said to himself then thought, 'but he cannot doubt I loved him. I'm glad I always told him.'

The heavy doors splintered inward, revealing gaps in the wood. From the balcony, the archers shot burning arrows through the holes without ceasing. Shrill screams echoed off the walls of the palace and the doors sat silent for the moment.

Thranduil gave the signal and the elves dumped the wine onto the floor. Three of his personal guard ran foward and dropped the barricade from the ceiling onto the floor just in front of the throne room doors. The three guards resumed their places just in front of their king.

Thranduil waited with bated breath as he lit his own sword, a signal for the others to light their own weapons. Proud, regal and determined he stood.

Boom! Boom! Boom! The doors were splintering apart with each assault. "Now!" Shouted Thranduil. The archers lit the throne room door's barricade and the elves at the ends of the room threw their torches, lighting the wine on the floor. "Feed the Fires!" Commanded Thranduil.

Soldiers threw wood from the dias onto the fires. Thranduil stepped backward and watched like a hawk from a perch studying it's prey. He listened to the angry pained screaming coming from the outside of the shattered doors. Dust from the ceiling sprayed down on top of him and his soldiers, causing them to jerk their heads up.

A great stone fell from above and Thranduil and his soldiers jumped out of the way as it crashed onto the floor. Dawn's first rays shined through the opening for a second then was blotted out. A loud careening filled the throne room and the elves covered their ears with their hands.

A dull off-white ratty cloth slowly seeped in through the hole in the ceiling. Then the cloth got fuller and a form took shape.

"Shoot it! Shoot it!" Shouted Thranduil.

The archers pulled their hands aways from their ears, ignoring the pain, and obeyed the order as blood dripped from their lobes and onto their armor, trickling down onto the balcony. Their arrows whistled to the target, igniting the tattered robe of their enemy.

Their foe opened it's mouth and screamed again as the fire engulfed the clothing. It raised a bony hand to it's neck and ripped the robe away from itself, allowing the dirty flaming rag to drop to the floor. It locked the dark pits where eyes should have been onto the elves on the balcony and drew back both it's hands.

The archers wasted no time but shot another volley at the ghastly thing floating in the air of the throne room. The arrows flew into the air, sailing to their target.

The entity threw it's elongated arms and hands in the direction of the balcony. From the tips of it's fingers flew a milky white thick subtance. The substance formed a ball and met the burning arrows midway, absorbing the volley. Both the ball and the arrows then simply disappeared.

The elves gasped but loosed more arrows, at will. Another wall of the substance absorbed the arrows in the air but lingered a few seconds before disappearing.

Thranduil's head spun back to the doors and two more of the vile creatures burst through the barricade. The bigger of the two shot one of it's arms out into the flames and screeched in pain.

"Keep the flames going!" He shouted above the clamor. Elves ran franctically to and fro, throwing more and more fuel on the fire, including his throne.

"Drop the second barricade!" Commanded Thranduil. The soldiers complied and hurriedly lit it. Thranduil realized the room was filling up with too much smoke and shouted the words to open the windows of the throne room, not caring who heard the secret passwords.

OOOOOOOooooooooooOOOOOOO

Janus, who had been fingering his special key and watching in horror the battle before him saw the windows open. His eyes darted to the elflings, bunched and clinging to each other in fear, and back to the windows. He grabbed one of the elleths who crouched near by, and begged her, "Help me."

They herded the elflings to the opened windows, gathering other elleths along the way. "Run, and don't look back!" Janus yelled at the elflings. Understanding dawned on the elleths faces, then the children's. Janus and the elleths began pushing the elflings unceremoniously out the opened windows. "Run children, run!"

OOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooOOOOOOO

Glorfindel watched as the armies waited in position for the signal to come from Galadriel. He grew impatient, but sat still none the less. Movement caught his eye and he focused on that area of the wall. To his amazement he saw elflings dropping out an opened window. He turned his head to the sons of Elrond, waiting beside him.

"Elrohir, Elladan, get those elflings away from here to safety, and then make for Imladris. Take thirty with you."

Elrohir and Elladan needed no further prompting, but rode straight out to the elflings. They and the soldiers with them quickly gathered the last child out of the window and led the children away from the palace, and over the grounds. Other soldiers dismounted and gave their horses to the elflings. Once all the elflings were paired with another on horseback, Elrohir and Elladan led them away and into the forest of Mirkwood, taking a straight path for their home.

OOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooo

The second barricade dropped from the ceiling and soldiers threw the last of the firebombs upon it. A blazing wall of fire sprung up before them.

The entity in the air flew straight down toward the fire and threw more of it's subtance on the newly lit fire. The two behind the barricade joined in. Where the milky substance landed, the fire and the barricade vanished from existance.

The flying menace turned to the elves and opened it mouth. With incredible speed, it reached out and grabbed two soldiers standing near Thranduil and shoved them into it's gaping maw. It worked it's jaws up and down, taking the screaming victims in by parts until at last it's hands were empty and reaching out for more.

In the newly discovered horror of the moment, Thranduil insanely realized a simple fact. The spectres were vunerable while eating. Thranduil swallowed the bile in his throat and gritted his teeth. He leaned to Captain Reilburn and said, "Go get Janire and that other looney one, what's his name...uh..Azuriel and drag them over here, be quick about it."

Reilburn ran to the beds of the two elves his king had mentioned. Janire and Azuriel were heavily sedated. Reilburn cut their bonds and dragged them by the hair of their heads back to where Thranduil

waited.

The three entities floated before the remnants of Thranduil's army and opened their mouths again. They whipped their hands through the army, grabbing elves.

Thranduil felt sick but he waited until the soldiers were being shoved into the mouths of the evil beings before him.

"Attack! Attack them now!" He commanded. His voice jerked the soldiers out of their shock and they attacked with their flaming swords as their king commanded. The elves hacked, sliced and stabbed the spectre's.

The three evil beings jerked their heads, flailing the bodies hanging out of their mouths in defense of themselves. They struck out blindly with their arms, knocking elves across the room and onto the floor with sickening thuds and crunches.

OOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooo

Elrond ran down the hallway leading to the throne room, with the others following him. Ahead of him, he could see the oak doors lay in splinters and piles of smoking rubbish.

"Ready yourselves!" he shouted behind him, and Galadriel sent the message out to the armies waiting outside.

Elrond pulled up to a stop just inside the doors with the others beside him. They grabbed each others hands as Mithrandir took his place in front of them.

Mithrandir thrust his staff into the air above him and in a loud booming voice spoke, "Evil of Morgoth!" His staff sent out an explosion of brillant light, blinding all in the room.

"Now Galadriel!" hissed Elrond.

In unison, the elves released their full fury and rage into energy that emitted from their bodies in the form of a scorching blinding and furious light that joined Mithrandirs.

Thranduil and the woodland elves had also recieved Galadriels message and joined the concerted effort.

The energies joined and wrapped around the spectres, completely engulfing the vile creatures. The spectres writhed and screamed in agony and torment but the elves stood firm and united, unmerciful and relentless.

The scorching energy drew in upon itself, concentrating on the spectres, and then suddenly exploded, expanding in a flat wave across Mirkwood, then arda until it and the evil ones were no more.

The elves collapsed where they stood or sat, completely spent and soaked in their own sweat. Mithrandir alone stood, leaning heavily on his staff, panting laboriously.

Finally Legolas lifted his head and began to crawl. His eyes searched frantically through the debri searching for the familiar face. How he hungered for the sight of his adar, for just his scent, so soothing and comforting. He silently prayed to Elberieth that he had not been too late. Legolas pulled himself through the holes in the barricades and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment.

The throne room was in ruins, dead bodies lay strewn about the charred floor and the smoke stung his eyes. He put one arm in front of the other and dragged himself along.

"Ada," he called out several times as he searched, "Ada, where are you?"

At last, he saw the corner tip of his adar's robe, and got onto his knees and scrambled over to the place. Thranduil lay under the broken body of another elf. Legolas shoved the dead elf off and took his father into his arms. "Ada!" He cried. "Ada do not leave me!" He stroked his fathers hair and kissed his forehead. "Ada, I need you, please don't leave me, I love you Ada!" Legolas choked between his free flowing tears and hiccups. "Ada!"

Thranduil slowly opened his eyes and saw his son's face above him, full of grief and reached up his hand and caressed Legolas' face. "Legolas, grieve not, I am here. Cry no more."

Legolas' eye shot wide and a broad smile covered his face, "Ada!" and he held his adar tightly whispering "I love you."

Thranduil returned his son's embrace and answered back, "And I love you my golden one."

Legolas and Thranduil stood up, leaning upon one another for strength, not willing to be parted from each other. Thranduil saw the masses of elves gathering around him including the Lords Elrond, Celeborn and Glorfindel and the Lady Galadriel, and Mithrandir, giggled slightly then asked Legolas half heartedly, "Is there anyone you did not bring?"

The peoples of all the elfdoms began cheering loudly, such was their complete and full joy. The sound filled the entire kingdom of Mirkwood.

OOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOoooooooo

After resting for a week, the armies of Imladris and Lothlorien left with their respective Lords and Lady, leaving behind groups from each to help with the rebuilding of Thranduil's kingdom.

The elflings were returned by Elrohir and Elladan, much to the relief of the woodland elves. Elrohir and Elladan decided to stay as guests and helping hands until the rebuilding of Mirkwood was complete.

Weekly, supplies were sent by Elrond, Galadriel and Celeborn to Thranduil to distribute to his people for their needs.

Mithrandir stayed as well, helping where he could and offering hope to the people of Thranduil.

The rebuilding was slow, but in the end, they conquered, again.

OOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooo

**Author's note: **There it is folks. Hope you loved reading it as much as I loved writing it. In case anyone is interested, I got the idea for the fury of the elves from FOTR when Glorfindel stood on the banks of the Bruinen and faced off agaisnt the Black Riders trying to capture an injured Frodo on the other side.

Reviews! Please!!

Until next time...


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